Red String of Fate
by Tirnel
Summary: Grell Sutcliff wants nothing more than to be on stage, and it looks like he may have ruined his chance when he embarrasses himself in front of the new patron. William T. Spears, son of a wealthy Englishman falls in love with a poor commoner, can it last? Lemon-free WARNINGS: Suicide and violence, based off ch 105 of manga with influences from the anime. Grelliam,
1. Chapter 1

(WARNINGS: Suicide and Grell being…Grell. Based off the manga ch 105 with influences from the anime, ep 3: His Butler, Omnipotent and the OVA: The Story of Will the Reaper. Kudos to Bassy for being the priest. All the thanks to my Beta, who helped to expand Grell's death scene. I know I probably don't thank her enough.

 **Red String of Fate**

It was all so exciting, the lights, the stage, the crowds, the costumes! One place where one could wear a dress, if it ever took his fancy and none would question him. He would become a famous actor someday and take center stage. Then his father couldn't say what a disappointment he was. He'd show them all. If only…

"Stop your daydreaming and get back to work, Sutcliff!" barked one of his superiors.

"Y-yes, sir," the lowly stagehand stammered and struggled to pick up the heavy box of props he was supposed to be carrying backstage before he had become distracted by the actors rehearsing their scenes. If only, he stole one more glance at the stage, if only he could work up the courage to do it.

That evening, during the performance he noticed several of the girls from the company peeking through the curtains and whispering. He ventured over and found they were looking up at one of the box seats where an extremely wealthy family was seated.

"That's the Spear's family, our new patron," one whispered.

"Not a very handsome family, I say, but very wealthy," another remarked.

"Any children?" Grell asked curiously.

"Two daughters and one very available son, or so they say," she peered up at the box, "Looks like they only brought the son today."

Grell leaned forward to get a better view. A little too far. He lost his balance and fell into others, causing them all to fall into a heap onto the stage with a shout. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized, trying to get back up and out of sight but kept getting caught in limbs and garments.

"What's going on down there?" Mr. Spears asked his wife.

"A little man is causing a scene, it appears," she answered.

"Well who is he?"

"Well, I don't know, dear," she answered haughtily, "this is my first time to this theatre. You can't expect me to know about everyone just yet."

"True. William-" Mr. Spears turned to his son. The seat was empty. "Gone again. How does he expect to become educated in the finer arts if he is always running off in the middle of performances?"

"You've gone and done it this time, Grell."

"Right in front of the patron. You'll be lucky if you don't get sacked."

"We'll be lucky if we all don't get sacked."

Grell hung his head in shame as the others berated him. This wasn't the first time he had screwed up and it wouldn't be his last.

"People, we have a show to do, if you don't mind." There was the manager, Mr. Morris now clapping his hands and ordering them back to work. He took the cigar out of his mouth and sneered at Grell. "And you, sir, will be fired, if I have anything to say about it."

"We shall see about that." A dark haired young man walked forward. The crowd hushed and gawked at the newcomer. "What happened?" he inquired.

"It's my fault, sir," Grell said in a quiet voice. William looked upon the small man upon the crate. He was incredibly thin and had mousy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail except for some strands at the forehead that seemed to have come free. Freckles were spotted across his sharp nose. Along with the shy and timid behavior, William found himself attracted to him. He mentally shook his head at his invading thoughts. He shouldn't think this way. He was busy chiding himself he almost missed Grell's next words. "I'm very clumsy you see."

The crowd shuffled back to work. Keeping their ears tuned to the conversation for anything that could lead to juicy gossip.

"What's your name?"

"Grell Sutcliff."

"From Yorkshire?"

"Yes, sir. I came to London to become an actor."

"Well you certainly made quite an entrance onto the stage," William smiled. Sutcliff was decidedly English, however, what a curious first name. William had never heard it's like before.

Grell looked up with a start at William's gentle barb, "I'm terribly sorry for causing such trouble. Please don't fire me. I'll atone for my mistakes somehow." Hands clasped together, his green eyes wide as he pleaded.

"Just try to be more careful in the future. Good day to you, Sutcliff." William turned and all but ran back to his family's box. The longer he stayed, the more drawn he felt to the man and such thoughts were forbidden by the church.

Grell hopped down off the crate. The young heir of the Spears' family fortune certainly didn't seem average. But then again, he didn't have the best judgment most of the time.

(x)

"I need to beg forgiveness, father." The wood of the booth was freshly oiled and the scent of incense hung in the air.

"For what, my child?"

"Impure thoughts."

"You know that you must purge these thoughts from your mind. You must remove from your life that which is causing these thoughts"

"How, father? This is not the first time I have had these sorts of thoughts, but never before have I felt such strong feelings to act on them."

"If they are for a certain young lady, you must remove her from your life. If it is merely the sight of any woman, I might suggest a numbering days in solitude or around your peers. Either way, you must pray."

William left the confessional booth and the cathedral not feeling like he had come any closer to a solution. Now he strolled along the riverbank, hands in his coat pockets. He viewed the scenery about him.

He couldn't get that mousy stagehand out of his head. William had almost lost his composure when Grell had looked upon him with those entrancing eyes, wide and pleading. They were the most beautiful things that William had ever seen before. A fact which he had to keep to himself, buried within his heart. He had to put this nonsense behind him. If he was found out, the punishment would be death. He refused to fall in love with another man. This same man he now saw on the riverbank holding a dagger.

(x)

Grell knelt on the grassy bank of the river fingering the sharp dagger he held in his hands as he gazed out across the water. He was foolish thinking he could ever become an actor. It didn't help that he had made a spectacle of himself in front of the new patron in the middle of a production. His only comfort was that he had been shown a small bit of kindness and he couldn't let him down again. His employers may not be so forgiving next time.

He raised the dagger to his throat, his hands shook. Grell closed his eyes and swallowed. Just as he was about to plunge the dagger into his body, a firm grip encircled around his wrist. Another hand pulled the dagger from his grasp. He opened his eyes to see it was the man from the previous evening that had prevented his death.

"You really are quite troublesome," William said with a sigh.

Grell bristled with anger at having been stopped. Where he normally would have kept it to himself, he instead lashed out. "Then why did you stop me?" he asked with a bite to his tone. He stared up into the man's brown eyes. They stayed there for a moment staring into each other's eyes. "Ah!" Grell exclaimed, remembering himself, "I mean…"

"I was not implying that you should end your life," William replied, having been a little shocked by Grell's unexpected outburst. It seemed the mouse could turn into quite the lion when riled properly and the way his nose wrinkled just now as he spoke out in his anger… "You say you want to be an actor." He changed the subject. "How about you give me an audition…Show me what you can do."

Grell hung his head, "I can't even make a pot of tea. My father's right. I'll never amount to anything." William's heart clenched. He wanted nothing more than to pull him into a tight embrace at this moment. "You're so kind to me. I would only let you down. Thank you for your generosity." William jerked the Grell up by the wrist which he still held. Grell let out a yelp as he was pulled to his feet.

"On your feet, Sutcliff. As your employer, I order you to show me your acting skills. I do not hire worthless people. If you say you are worthless, then prove it to me and you shall be released from your employment. I shall know if you act badly on purpose, so do not even try it."

Grell looked at William, wondering why this stranger should take such an interest in a person like himself. William's face was hard, yet his eyes were soft and caring. _'Why does he care? How can he care about…me. He_ cares _. He cares about me.'_ It didn't make sense, and yet…

William took a seat on the riverbank. Grell couldn't help but stare as he tried to figure the stranger out. It occurred to him that he didn't even know his name. "I-Mister Spears."

"Will. Call me 'Will'."

"Will…"

"What about singing? Plays are not as popular at present. My father is thinking of making the playhouse more of an opera house."

Grell took a deep breath. "Very well." He took a position best suited for singing, taking a moment to choose which of the songs he knew would best be suited for a gentleman's ears. One more look at Will and he began to sing.

William sat in awe. His voice was absolutely beautiful. An angel couldn't have sounded any better and in the early morning light clad in a white shirt, he looked like an angel. He was entranced till the very end. William was could hardly find words. "That, that was…"

"You hated it. I was terrible and you hated me," Grell said quickly. To William he sounded on the verge of tears.

William immediately shook his head, "No. No, it was amazing." He stood and took Grell's hands. "Grell Sutcliff, I have never heard anything so perfect in all my life. It was beautiful…you are bea-" William stopped. Not only had he almost said too much but Grell now had tears running down his cheeks. William pulled out his handkerchief and wiped Grell's face.

"You…liked it?" Will seemed to misunderstand. These were tears of joy, not sorrow. No one had ever complimented him before. Never did he expect such a response. The almost comment about himself being beautiful didn't escape his notice. The man must be mad to ever think that Grell could be considered beautiful and yet Grell didn't doubt that William was being sincere.

"Fear not," William said softly. He was standing very close now, "You are going to keep your job. In fact I think you may be up for a promotion."

Grell placed a hand on Will's shoulder and kissed Will on his cheek. Not caring how inappropriate it was or what the consequences may be, especially if he misjudged Will's sentiments.

Still holding one of Grell's hands, William looked and ran to the nearest bridge, dragging Grell along behind him and keeping to the bank till they were under the arch of the bridge. A quick glance around to make sure no one could see and he pulled Grell close to him pressed his lips against Grell's. Grell responded and deepened the kiss, living in the moment.

"This is mad," Grell said breathlessly when they parted, "We don't even know each other." William stared down at him as he held him close. Grell's concern was not how wrong this was, but that they didn't know each other? What sort of creature had he fallen for, he wondered. He had already learned much about Grell in the few hours he had known him, yet every bit of it was a puzzle.

They sat down under the bridge and talked for hours, Grell resting comfortably in Will's arms. Confidence grew in him by the minute. It grew to the point that Grell enacted a scene from a popular play in recent past, in which he also showed promising acting skills. Alas the time came when they had to bid their adieus.

(x)

Where was he? Where was Will? He was supposed to be here. It was opening night! Grell's debut onto the stage. He understood Will had been busy lately and didn't have as much time for their relationship right now, but this was different. This was a very emotional time for Grell and he needed his loved one close to his side.

"You're on in five minutes, Sutcliff." Someone alerted him.

A young lad with a cap ran into the dressing area where Grell paced anxiously. "I have a letter for a Mr. Grell Sutcliff?"

Snatching the letter from the boy, he opened it quickly and read the contents. His heart sank with every line.

'Dear Mr. Sutcliff,

I shall not be seeking an audience with you anymore, but it would be unseemly if I did not first explain my actions of late. My behavior towards you has been most unbecoming and inappropriate. I entreat your forgiveness regarding this matter. I have distanced myself from your person, as an association, such as we have, has been ill advised from the very beginning and I have come to realize the wisdom of this advise which I so blatantly ignored. For not having been more guarded in such matters, I shall be seeking a place elsewhere to reflect on such indecencies.

You are in no way to seek to contact me. Any attempts to do so shall be dealt with harshly. You may keep the token of our acquaintanceship that I so irresponsibly bestowed upon you.

Sincerely,

William T. Spears'

Grell read and reread the letter, not wanting to believe it was true. Maybe he missed something. Maybe…

"Sutcliff, you're on!"

He fingered the red bow in his hair. Slowly, he drug his feet to his mark, the letter crumpled in his hands as clutched onto it desperately. The curtains rose to reveal the audience. Futilely, his eyes searched the crowd for any sign of Will. The music started. Grell opened his mouth.

(x)

It would be better if he just ended it. No one would miss him. He would no longer be a burden to those around him. After choking like he did on the stage, unable to sing a note. William had abandoned him. He had been foolish to think there could ever be anything between them. William was from a rich noble family. He was expected to marry well to another rich family. Grell was just a lowly peasant from a poor family with no history. He was a passing fancy to William, nothing more. He was nothing.

He tied one end of the rope off and looped the other end around his neck. Cautiously, he stepped onto the railing. The wind toyed with his hair. He looked down, unsure if he wanted to go through with this. He climbed down off of the railing and removed the rope. Grell sat on the pavement next to the railing. He pulled out the knife he carried on him and absently fiddled with it as he stared up at the stars. It was on a night similar to this that he and Will had danced together under the moon. Grell had borrowed a red dress with a pink bow on the back from the costumes and Will had worn a blue overcoat. It was just something silly they had done on a whim. William encouraging him to be brave and impulsive, but to Grell, it was one of the best nights he ever had. He could say that of any time he and Will had spent time together, whether it was stealing kisses behind clothing racks or meeting under that same bridge to hold each other.

It was so shiny, so sharp and his skin quite pale. Perhaps it could do with a bit of color. He pressed the blade into his flesh. A beautiful crimson color flooded to the surface. He stare din awe at its magnificence.

"Bravo, I must say, very good man. That was the best performance I have ever seen!" Grell looked to see a young man approaching, clapping his hands together, His group of friends stood back a bit grinning. "You were the one on stage tonight, were you not? We saw what you were trying to do just now. But just like you did on the stage, you chickened out." They all laughed. Grell laughed too, rising to his feet. How marvelous they would all look in this fabulous color he had just discovered.

He heard their words, their careless cruelty tossed in his direction, but something was different this time. Normally, he would have bowed his head and simply accepted their criticism and insults. After all, he was used to it, but he could feel something new stirring inside him. The rage he kept so carefully in check began to bubble to the surface, and he knew the smile that now graced his plain, freckled face was one of madness. They kept laughing and never noticed him eyeing the sharpness of the blade or the way he began to advance. They never noticed until it was too late.

Once it was over, he stood there for a minute gasping but he felt oddly relieved and lighter. He had become an artist as he had painted with those glorious shades of ultimate crimson. His hands were drenched in their blood, but still he stood reveling in his deeds.

The cry of alarm and shouts sounded distant in his ears, but he realized that the police was on the way. Some primal fear, a basic instinct of survival kicked in, so he ran. The police soon followed, shouting for him to stop, but that only gave his feet more speed. He heard his steps echoing off the cobblestones, and for the first time he felt truly free. Those words, slaps, punches, and shoves had had endured all of his life could no longer touch him. He was beyond all that.

By the time he reached the bridge, he realized his flight was futile, and he no longer cared about survival. He had tasted freedom, sweet freedom that those cops would put an end to all too soon if he was caught, and he knew that now he could die with that intoxicating taste still lingering on his tongue. Laughing loudly, he jumped over the railing and welcomed the icy embrace of the river below. For a brief moment, he imagined someone in a black suit, the likes of which he had never seen before holding a strange device and standing on the banks of the river.

~SEVEN PEOPLE BRUTALLY MURDERED ON -ST.~

"God be with the souls of the departed and with the hearts of the families who remain as London mourns the deaths of these young folk.

The culprit is believed to be a young male named Sutcliff. He was pursued by authorities to - Bridge from which he jumped into the river and subsequently drowned…"

William put the paper down on the table next to the stuffed chair in which he sat. He couldn't bear to read any more. He placed his hand over his mouth and took a shuddering breath. His involvement with this man had gotten people killed, along with the man himself. His father had always said to be careful with one's emotions. The door opened and his father and mother walked into the room followed by another man and a young lady close to William's age. William stood hastily to his feet and gave a slight bow.

The man and his daughter were introduced. Mr. Spears and the man had finally come to an agreement. William and the young lady were to wed next spring. His mother came up to him and kissed him on his cheek, "May the two of you be blessed." He kissed his mother back, shook hands with the man and kissed the lady's hand before excusing himself from the room, wishing now he had not postponed his departure.

He made his way to his father's study. He shut and locked the door behind him. Going over to the desk he retrieved a pistol from the drawer. He cocked it and put it in his mouth. _BANG_!

"Well, well, if it isn't the lover from last night's case. These two are certainly quite a pair," laughed a man in a black suit as he examined the cinematic record of William T. Spears. "Let's see how they do in the afterlife they chose for themselves." He took out the appropriate stamp and stamped the book next to the picture of William.

(x)

The following chapter(s) shall be snippets over the course of several years.


	2. Chapter 2

(x)

The following chapter(s) shall be snippets over the course of several years.

The following are in no particular order

(x)

 _Setting the Goal_

Grell Sutcliff tapped his arm impatiently, staring at the floor as he listened to the man drone about their grades. During his training as a new recruit of the Grim Reaper Association, he had learned to modify his appearance to some extent. A new life needed a new look. He cut his hair and used a technique to color his hair red, a color which he was becoming very fond of. What Grell couldn't understand was why they had partnered him with _him_. Grell didn't know why, perhaps he had known him in his past life, but he did not like him one bit. Not only that, this man was a B-average student! How dare they pair him, an A-average with someone so low! He protested, of course, but they wouldn't let him switch partners.

As he predicted, the man was troublesome during the entire month and on that last day, December 16, 1799. He had picked another fight with William over the demise of the aspiring writer of whom they were scheduled to reap, but this time, he was losing. William came at him from every angle. _'What is this? What is this feeling? This…'_ A memory flashed in his mind, from his human life. He and William were holding each other close and dancing. _'This must be…!'_

"True, he may become a famous author whose name will go down in history," William spoke, "Nevertheless…" Grell looked at William, his cheeks rosy as he swallowed thickly. No, not 'William'…'Will'. This man…he was… "The world will be no different with or without him." William fixed Grell with his sharp, cold gaze. He remembered those eyes were once brown. Memories of the two of them together came rushing back and Grell fell to his knees. Will looked at his pocket watch, "It is time. We must be off." Will took off to the site where Thomas Wallis' soul was to be collected. Grell remained behind, collapsing onto his back.

Will, oh Will! He hugged himself and wiggled from side to side. He giggled happily. Had they taken a lover's pact and committed suicide together because their love could never be? He fantasized to himself. No. He realized a sigh. As wonderfully dramatic and passionate it sounded, he had been alone when the reaper had collected his soul. He bolted up. What if Will doesn't remember? He gasped in realization. Will must not remember the love they had shared. Otherwise, how could he be so standoffish with Grell? He would have to tread carefully. Will may not believe him if he suddenly said they were once lovers. Or he may remember something Grell hadn't. Such as the reason they had not been together when they had died. Grell didn't want to be reminded about that. What painful parting had separated them was not important. _They_ were death now and had forever to spend with each other, to fall in love all over again.

Not if they didn't pass the test.

He jumped the rooftops to where Will was bound by the Cinematic records of Thomas Wallis. That can't be good. Taking a seat on a chimney, Grell used his scythe like a boomerang and cut through the records holding him. "I can't believe you'd light my fire and then just go play with _him_." Grell knelt in front of Will who was gasping for breath. He placed William's spectacles back onto William's nose and leaned in closely, "Take care with your glasses." To Thomas Wallis' soul, "Keep your hands off my man, home wrecker!" Will was his.

"I am not your man," William protested. Grell was certain William didn't remember now. It was different for every recruit he had spoken with. Some remembered everything from their life and some none at all. Some would only have a portion of memories. But that didn't matter. If Will could fall in love with him once, he could fall in love with him again.

(x)

 _Only Temporary_

(note: in the Japanese Will calls Grell a temp worker (haken)..sooo he was originally in a different department?)

'William T. Spears

Dispatch Supervisor'

William looked at the freshly painted letters with satisfaction, all perfectly aligned. He nodded with approval and stepped into his new office. Grell lay posed on his desk, his vest and non-regulation tie discarded. His shirt was unbuttoned and draped around his elbows. "Congratulations on your promotion, Will. I have a gift for you in honor of it," he said suggestively.

"Leave it on the desk and go," William coldly instructed, walking towards the desk.

"Nhin~. Your gift is already on your desk, just waiting to be opened." He batted his lashes. Will now noticed the red bow that was tied in Grell's hair. "Ow!" Grell shouted when Will shoved him off his desk and onto the floor. "I thought the desk would be easier, darling, but if you prefer the floor…"

"Sutcliff, get out and I'm not your 'darling'. This is not even your department; you should get back to work. There is no time for dilly-dallying and daydreams in our line of work."

"This _is_ my department, Will," Grell happily informed him as he stood to his feet.

William raised an eyebrow at this. He took a seat in his office chair and folded his hands. Resting them on top of the desk, he fixed his gaze on Grell. Grell shivered with delight. "What do you mean, 'this is your department'?"

Grell searched his pants' pockets before finding and pulling out a folded piece of paper which he promptly handed to William. William opened it and scanned the contents. "It seems that the board has finally acknowledged my special talents and has decided to put them to good use."

"'Temporarily'," William stated with the utmost assurance that this letter was in any way forged. The letter ordered Grell Sutcliff to report to William T. Spears, the new dispatch supervisor promptly that morning where was to be temporarily assigned to work and collect souls. The collections department was terribly short-handed of late. William reasoned as this being the only logical explanation the Board to send to him the brash and sometimes violent red terror. These tendencies (and if rumors around the office were to be believed: a murderer in his past life) being the reasons the Board had not assigned him to dispatch in the first place.

Grell leaned forward on the desk, his chin in his hands and grinning madly, "Maybe my love can pull a few strings to make it permanent." He placed a hand in Will's, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could always work together, Will?"

Will's eyebrow twitched and he jerked his hand away, "No, it would not. I am not your love and you are to address me as 'Mr. Spears'. Now please clothe yourself properly and have a seat while I file the necessary paperwork and figure out your assignments for today."

Grell took a seat but didn't bother to reassemble his attire, just in case Will should change his mind. Flopping down into the chair across from Will's desk, he lounged in the chair crookedly, his legs draping over one armrest. He took out a nail file after an inspection of his nails and set to work on them, humming a tune as he did so.

William glanced up at the red reaper disgracefully abusing his new office furniture as he filled out the necessary paperwork. "I did not know that that position was considered proper amongst ladies, as you insist you are."

"Oh, darling, there are a great many mysterious things about ladies that I'm sure would surprise you….Care to find out about one of them?"

"Not in the slightest."

Grell resumed his humming, a tune which William could not put his finger on.

"Sutcliff…"

"Yes, darling?"

"…Never mind…"

Grell shrugged and after one last inspection he put the nail file away. "You know, Will, you never cease to amaze me."

" _I_ amaze _you_? How?"

"For instance, just now. You have not once barked at me to 'cease that infernal humming!' It makes a girl wonder…Did you enjoy it?"

William fought the blush that threatened to creep over his face as he busied about finishing the form, pointedly ignoring the question with an adjustment of his glasses. Sutcliff _did_ have a nice voice, but he wasn't about to let _him_ know that. Grell looked at him knowingly and crept around the desk to stand behind William. William's pen clattered to the desk as he nearly jumped out his chair when Grell placed his hands on Will's shoulders. "So tense," he whispered closely into his ear sending a shiver down Will's spine.

William was about to stop him and rid himself of the contact when Grell started kneading William's muscles. A victory grin spread over Grell's face as William melted into his touch. He moved a hand to Will's neck and with the other deftly loosened Will's tie and the top of his shirt before resuming his work on Will's shoulders. Grell leaned close to William's left temple about to plant a kiss there, when the door opened.

The woman looked at them in a state of shock, her face red with embarrassment. "I'll come back later, Mr. Spears. When you aren't…busy." She hurried back out of the room, closing the door behind her. William's eyebrow twitched.

"Sutcliff," he said dangerously. He caught Grell's wrist in a bruising grasp. Rising quickly, he spun on the red reaper and pinned him to the wall. "I am your supervisor and shall address me as Mr. Spears. You will cease this untoward behavior at once. It is unbecoming of a grim reaper and inappropriate. I will not tolerate such behavior in my department. Now, get dressed," he released him with a shove, "before I report you for sexual harassment."

Grell started buttoning his shirt. His grew wide when William pulled out an overly thick To-Die list. "These," Will stated, dropping the book onto the desk with a heavy thud, "are your assignments for today. See to it that you fulfill every _single_ one of them."

"You have got to be joking, Will," Grell said with a laugh. Will sent him a look. "Oh, you're not…joking." He jerked his chin and sauntered over to the desk. "I shall start immediately." He hefted the book up and held it close to his chest. Poking his head back inside the office to ask, "How about a date, Will, if I manage to complete this list today?" He quickly shut the door with a yelp to avoid the death scythe that was extending its way towards his head.

(x)

 _Will goes over Grell's monthly expense reports._

William felt a blood vessel pop in his forehead. He pressed the button on the intercom. "Ms. Jennings, have Grell Sutcliff report to my office." He released the button only to press it down once more. "Immediately."

Not even five seconds it seemed had passed before the door to his office burst open and the queen of the reapers posed as soon as entering the room. "You sent for me, darling? I got here as quick as I could. How do you want me?"

"In that chair right there." William pointed to the chair in front of his desk. Grell giggled as he shut the door and pranced over to the chair. "Sit, Mr. Sutcliff." Grell took a seat, wiggling in anticipation. "I have just received your expense report for this month. Would you care to explain just how you managed to spend this much money in ONE month?"

"I had a lot of expenses, Will. I ran out of nail polish for one. It was absolutely dreadful." He brushed his hair over his shoulder.

"You expect me to believe you spent over three thousand pounds in nail polish?"

Grell placed a red-lacquered nail to his lip, "Well there was also that dress I saw last week. It was to die for, Will, I couldn't say, 'no'." He added a wink, "I'd love to show it to you sometime. And of course once you buy a new dress, you must simply have shoes to match it. Oh, and the handbag. One can never go wrong with the right accessories."

William raised a hand while rubbing his temple with the other. "Stop. Just, _sigh_ , stop."

"And that's ' _Miss_ Sutcliff', thank you."

"Items of such nature do not fall under the list of on the job expenses allowed by the board. Such items must be paid out of your own pocket. If you cannot afford said items, I would suggest returning them and perhaps with a little discipline and hard work perhaps one day you can. Not that I see any need for such items as necessary, but it is none of my business how you wish to spend your salary."

Grell put his elbow on the armrest and rested his chin in his hand with a sigh of boredom.

"Is something the matter, Sutcliff?"

"Is this really all you called me for? You're no fun at all, Will."

"The Grim Reaper Association is not a place for _fun_ , Sutcliff. It is most certainly not the place for the _type_ of fun that you seek, either. You are dismissed."

Grell paused on his way out the door, "Are you sure this is _all_ you wanted, Will?" He shivered under the cold glare that was sent his way. Cherishing the small emotion he managed to draw from his prince.

William pressed the button on the intercom, "Ms. Jennings. An aspirin, if you please."

(x)

 _Reflection_

His hands balled into tight fists so tight that his nails were sure to leave marks where they dug into the skin. He trembled slightly, bursting with hatred as the image in the mirror glared back at him. The last person he ever wanted to see, himself. His weak, human self. Timid, shy, tch, what an embarrassment. It wasn't enough he had to look this way, but he had to act that way too, if he was to be believable. Blend in to the background. Everything about his normal self stood out like an eyesore, he could hear William's voice in his head saying so.

He grabbed his hair and briskly pulled it into a low ponytail then tied it with a red bow. Grell reached up and fingered the bow. William. The fire went out of him and his shoulders slumped forward. What would William say if he found him running around with this woman? What would he _do_? His knees shook in trepidation.

"You're not going soft on me are you?"

"No!" Grell said with a start, "It's just…"

"You want him to notice you, don't you?"

"O-of course! I just don't think is the best way after all."

"And that woman is _so_ interesting and those whores. Are you sympathizing with _them_ now?"

"No, no! How can I-"

"Coward."

"No." Grell gripped his head with his hands and shook his head.

"Coward. Coward!" Grell stiffened, staring wide eyed into his reflection. "Coward, coward, coward!"

Grell screamed and punched a fist into the glass mirror. No, he was _not_ weak and he was most certainly _not_ a coward.

A knock sounded on the door and it opened. "Grell, it's time. Are you ready?" Madam asked, dressed in the red frock coat which he coveted. She smiled, "I never would have recognized you."

"Nhin~," Grell grinned maniacally. "Let's paint."

(that one came out a lot more psychotic than I originally anticipated) o.O

(x)

 _Just a Dream_

"You have to be more assertive, Grell, if you ever want people to take you seriously. Speak out; let your voice be heard."

Grell sighed, wrapping his arms around his knees and leaning forward. William sat up, moving closer to Grell and running his fingers through the man's long brown hair. He then pulled out a red piece of fabric and pulled it back into its usual ponytail, completing it in a bow at the base of the tail with the red fabric.

William swept aside the ponytail to kiss along the back of Grell's neck. Grell jumped and squirmed as something between a squeal and a giggle once Wiliam's lips found a sensitive spot on his neck. William smiled devilishly, "Ticklish, are we?" Grell turned and looked at William with a horrified look. William slipped his fingers under Grell's arms and wiggled them. Grell shrieked and fell onto his back laughing. Will straddled him and tested other potential tickle spots while Grell feebly tried to fend him off. "Are you even trying? Honestly," laughed Will, moving to a new area earning him another, even louder shriek.

Laughter turned into the twittering of birds. William rolled over, refusing to get up just yet. He smiled at the tufts of red hair sticking out from the top of the blanket. What a curious dream.

He wrapped his new lover in his arms, causing him to stir slightly. Then he kissed the top of his head. Grell rolled over and hugged him back. "Good morning," he said sleepily.

Will caressed Grell's side. "Good morning," he answered back. Grell snuggled up cozily next to William with a contented sigh. "I had a dream last night about you and me."

"Really? Did it have a priest in it?" Grell giggled.

William quirked an eyebrow, "A priest?"

"And bells?"

"You are being ridiculous now." He stilled his hand and rested it against Grell's smooth skin. Curious, he moved his hand to the last position he had tried in the dream, just near the hip. "We were sitting together in a bed. Your hair was different, as were your eyes, but they were just as lovely."

Grell looked up at him curiously, "What happened, what did we do?"

"This," Will smiled and he tickled Grell.

"Ah! Will, No!" he cried and squirmed. He wriggled away, inching towards the edge of the bed. William pursued until Grell fell over the edge and onto the floor with a yelp. William followed after and pinned him to the floor. Grell kicked and bucked. "Will," he said laughing, "stop!"

"Make me, Miss Triple A."

"Oh! You!" Grell flustered. "This isn't fair, Will!"

"I bet I can get you to tell me anything at this moment," William mused aloud and after a moment's contemplation, decided to test it. "Who spiked my eggnog last Christmas?"

"I can't-"

"Come on, who was it?"

"I- it was…It was Ronnie and Eric. I had nothing to do with it, I swear! I just tried to take advantage of the situation!"

Will smiled in satisfaction. He thought hard about his next question. "What happened that night?"

Grell tensed, "Er, what night, Will?"

"The night I was drunk and you took me your flat. We…had intercourse and you made breakfast for me the next morning." Grell bit his lip and turned his head with a sheepish look. William narrowed his eyes.

"It's just as you said, Will," Grell smiled and said with shrug.

"Look me in the eyes, Grell." Grell looked at William, his lower lip stuck in a pout. "Tell me what happened, or the under arms get it."

"Promise you won't get mad?"

Will looked sharply at him, "I promise."

"You forced yourself onto to me after I got you into my flat. You tore my favorite dress too, which I never have forgiven you for, by the way."

William looked sick, "Did I really force myself upon you?"

"I tried to stop you, Will, but you were so persistent and I wanted you so. So I can't really say that I tried all that hard," he said with a laugh before growing somber again. "But that's not the information you are looking for, love." William gave him a curious look, "Now, Will, I never said we actually made love. You jumped to that conclusion on your own the next morning and you looked so cute blushing the way you did."

"What are you saying, Grell? Did we or did we not have intercourse that night?"

"You passed out again before we could do anything."

"And you just let me believe…all this time."

"Honestly, Will, you didn't hardly give me a chance once you made the assumption and it didn't seem that important afterwards, after all I thought you would like me better if you thought we had had sex. Are you upset with me?"

William rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Not really. I am mostly displeased with my behavior."

"But I was willing, darling, and in the end we didn't even do anything, so…"

"It's still no excuse, Grell and you should have told me. I'll buy you a new dress."

"Will-" Grell started but was interrupted by the ringing of his telephone. Grell groaned and reached up to his nightstand to pick up the receiver. "It had better be important!" he barked.

"Old man, you still in bed?" Ronald asked on the other end.

"You called just for that?! Look here, mustard seed-"

"No, it's just the boss is oddly late today as well. I wanted to give you a heads up so you can get down here before he does. You really can't afford another pay cut, after all."

William took the receiver from Grell, "Mr. Knox. I am already well aware of Mr. Sutcliff's tardiness. I have been interrogating him regarding shenanigans around the office to find out the culprits so I may put a stop to them. I found the answer to the mysterious eggnog tampering of last December most intriguing. I shall be there momentarily, with your mentor in tow. I expect everyone to already be hard at work and not flirting with my secretary." He hung up.

Ronald put down the receiver and smiled nervously at Miss Jennings. "Ha, uh, I've gotta go, see ya later, toots."


	3. A Question of Sanity

_A Question of Sanity_

Grell picked up the pills with a look of disgust. He hated the vile things. Begrudgingly, he tapped out the required dosage into his hand and popped them into his mouth followed by a drink of water. He didn't need medication. Grell was perfectly fine, but it was take the pills or stay in the hospital. Take the pills, or no dispatch. Take the pills, or no beloved death scythe.

For goodness sake, it was just a few murders. Murders that included the death of his Madame…fine, okay, he could kind of see their point, but that didn't mean he was crazy. It was Jack's idea. It was Jack that killed Madame. Grell just went along with Jack's plan to murder the prostitutes. Hadn't they ever heard of peer pressure? He reached over and picked up the calendar that stood on his bedside table, holding the blurry dates close to his face to read it properly. With a groan, he collapsed back into the bedding. In addition to the pills he had to see a psychiatrist once a week. That quack of a doctor who kept questioning him as if he was Jack. As if he and Jack were the same person. Where was he when he fought Bassy? And when Bassy had him pinned to the ground, why hadn't Jack come to his rescue? Though he preferred William's rescue, how could he just disappear like that?

Doubt tickled in the back of his brain about Jack's existence. Grell could hear the psychiatrist's words in his head concerning Jack. He sat up and threw the calendar across the room before lying back down and pulling the covers over his head. He didn't have any souls to collect this morning. He was stuck with janitorial work until further notice. Janitor's work! Don't they know what that kind of work does to a maiden's hands? Therefore, he had no intentions of getting out of bed just yet.

His doorbell rang. Ignore.

 _Dingdong_. IGNORE.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

He growled and flung the covers off, muttering all the way down the stairs as he went to answer the door. Whoever it was, it better be important…He perked up. Maybe it was William. Maybe he came to see him. "Just a minute!" he called desperately. He combed his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth out his bed head. He pinched his cheeks and then opened the door, leaning on its frame. "Good morning, darling~," he greeted with a flutter of his lashes.

"I'm not your darling," was the answer, but it wasn't Will's voice but rather a poor imitation of it.

"Ronald Knox!" Grell snarled, "Don't you know its bad manners to- to…." He let out a yelp and jumped behind the door, grabbing his red jacket off the coat rack and pulling it on.

"Yeah," smirked Knox, "but didn't you know it's bad manners, especially for a lady, to answer the door in her underwear or nightclothes or whatever the heck you call that."

"With someone as lecherous as you, I would have thought you would know lingerie when you see it," Grell rebutted with a huff, "Thanks for coming, mustard seed."

"And what about us?" asked a brutish voice. Grell peered out the door to make out two other figures standing behind Knox.

"Oh, Alan, Eric. Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Maybe if you wore your glasses you could," Eric answered earning him a jab to the ribs from Alan.

"They wouldn't let us come see you while you were…hospitalized, so this visit is to make up for it," Alan said with a smile, handing Grell a bouquet of flowers, "and to welcome you home." Grell motioned for them to come in and told them to make themselves comfortable while he went and made himself more presentable. Eric muttered something under his breath about them waiting forever.

While Grell busied about upstairs, Alan made a pot of tea. To Eric's surprise (and relief), Grell wasn't long at all. "How about breakfast?" he offered when he joined the others in the living room.

"I'm sorry, Grell, but we can't be that long. We barely have enough time for tea," Alan gently turned down the offer, "Another time, perhaps."

Grell's smile wavered for just a moment, "Oh, don't worry about it, Alan, I understand." He moved to sit by Alan.

"I want to, Grell, really," Alan tried to reassure him, "its just work-"

"I said don't worry about it," he said with a bit of bite and took a sip of tea from the cup offered to him. They sipped in silence for a few moments before Ronald began to inform Grell on the latest office gossip. The conversation grew more relaxed and they chatted about various things until they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Grell rose to his feet to answer it when the visitor let himself in and stood in the entrance to the living room.

"Grell Sutcliff." Formalities at all times.

"Will."

An adjustment of his glasses, "I am here to escort you to your appointment. Honestly, I do not see the need to send one in such a position as I. Especially when I am busy cleaning up after your mess, among other things." He looked from Grell to the others, "And you three…"

"We're leaving, we're leaving!" Ronald announced. Cups clattered onto their saucers and placed on the coffee table as they vacated the premises.

"Really, Will, They just stopped in to say, 'hello'. After all, they weren't allowed to visit me the entire time I was…away."

"It's called 'Solitary Confinement' for a reason, Sutcliff."

Grell giggled and stepped up close to William, "Well, I'm not 'confined' anymore. Perhaps the two of us together, things will no longer be 'solitary' either." He jumped back in surprise as William's scythe shot up between them, blocking Grell from continuing his fingering of William's collar as he leaned closer and closer.

"Let us be off."

Grell slouched back on the sofa in which he was seated, arms folded, legs crossed in a feminine manner. A bored, irritated expression on his face as he watched the mustached man in the white coat sitting across from him scribbled on his clipboard.

"And how is Jack this morning? May I speak to him?" He finally asked after several long excruciating minutes.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Grell answered hotly, "Do I look like Jack to you?" The psychiatrist regarded him for a moment and then scribbled on his board.

"You have been taking your medication, I take it?" Grell's eyes hardened and his frown deepened,

"What do you think?" Scribble.

"Any side effects that you have noticed? Any depression, sudden mood changes, loss of appetite?"

"No." Scribble.

A few more questions. Some personal, invasive questions. More scribbles. Finally a "Very well, Mr. Sutcliff, we are finished for today. You may leave now."

"Tch." He rose to his feet, brushing his long hair over his shoulder before leaving the room. "Quack." He thought of how fun it would be to toy with him someday, but that would only delay his return to dispatch. _If_ they let him, that is. It was only supposed to be temporary. But that was so long ago he had all but forgotten. Fooled himself into thinking it was now permanent. Dispatch was home.

He was used to seeing his beloved every morning (even if the sentiment was not returned). He had been assigned a recruit to mentor like any normal member of the dispatch who had become as a son to him. A good friend who was like a sibling…and Eric, wherever he fit into their little family. He supposed he could also add in Ms. Jennings, the 'kind neighbor lady from next door' or perhaps a cousin or an aunt. Either way, he didn't think he could bear it if he no longer got to work with them. There was no way he wanted to go back to his old position, nor did he want to be stuck as a janitor for the rest of his life.

(x)

After having escorted his charge to the psychiatrist's office, William headed to his office. He hadn't liked the idea of Sutcliff being allowed into dispatch, but orders were orders and there was no denying that Sutcliff was efficient when it came to reaping souls. He just wished the reaper was as efficient in other areas of work as well.

Once in the confines of his office, he asked Ms. Jennings if he had any special appointments to keep today. He did. The head of the London Division wanted to see him regarding recent events at one o'clock this afternoon. Very well, he would work on the backlog of paperwork piling up on his desk until then.

12:45 pm

Preferring to arrive early to this meeting rather than risk being late, William T. Spears waited outside the head office, sitting on the firm black leather couch against the wall across from the secretary. A Mrs. Biggs was it? Yes, that sounded right. He glanced at the clock. 12:46.

The elevator dinged and opened to allow four gentlemen to exit. William stood as they entered the room. Mrs. Biggs stood as well and swiftly moved to open the door to Mr. Habernathy's office for them. William bowed to them as they passed.

Board members.

This was rather serious. William reclaimed his seat as it was clear he was not allowed in until one o'clock.

1:00 pm

"Mr. Spears," one of the members of the board addressed him as he stood in the room. Posture perfect, every hair in place, tie straight, and no wrinkles of any sort on his garments. "You have been in the position of Dispatch Supervisor of the London Division for almost sixty years. The same amount of time that Mr. Sutcliff has been working with the same department on a temporary basis, which the maximum years allotted, is five. So tell me, Mr. Spears why is it you never filed the proper paperwork and returned him to his proper department?"

"Mr. Sutcliff was assigned to this department by the board's decision because we were understaffed and we are still understaffed. Mr. Sutcliff was still needed by my department."

"And just what _is_ your relationship with Mr. Sutcliff?" asked another member of the board.

"I beg pardon?"

"It's a simple question, Mr. Spears. What is your relationship with Mr. Sutcliff?"

If possible, William stiffened further as the insinuating question. "He is my subordinate. I am his supervisor. Our relationship is strictly professional."

"My inquiries indicate otherwise. They indicate that you and Mr. Sutcliff are involved in a _different_ sort of relationship, a _romantic_ relationship? Could that be your reason for not following protocol?"

"I assure you, gentlemen, that any conceptions of a romantic relationship between Mr. Sutcliff and myself are born purely out of the imaginations and daydreams of Mr. Sutcliff and are completely unfounded. Nor have I given Mr. Sutcliff any ideas that there could ever be such a relationship. I believe he first conceived the notion when we were in the academy, long before I was promoted to the position of supervisor. Why he believes this, I know not…I find it hard to believe that the board is believing the words of someone currently under medication and seeing a psychiatrist after having his sanity questioned."

The board member's face heated up, but the third member of the board chimed in before he could form a sentence. "These are not the words of Mr. Sutcliff, Mr. Spears, but those under your charge. Mr. Sutcliff is reported to repeatedly referring to you as his 'darling' and his 'man'. You say there this information is falsified?"

"It is true that Mr. Sutcliff calls me as such," the second man leaned back in his seat with a smirk, "against my will. However, I have never been either. It is a delusion of Sutcliff's. Mr. Sutcliff and I have never once done anything that would lead to any romantic relationship of any sort."

"So you think that Mr. Sutcliff is delusional?" asked the final member of the board.

"Only when it comes to ideas of love and romance. Otherwise, he is a perfectly capable soul collections officer. There is of course room for improvement. We all have room for improvement, do you not think so?"

"It appears Mr. Sutcliff created or began creating that abominable tool he calls a death scythe while working in the scythe manufacturing department. How long have you been aware of his unauthorized scythe?" The second member jumped in again.

"Only recently. When I placed him under arrest for his crimes as 'Jack the Ripper'. He kept it well hidden and either had not completed it until the time just before the murders or simply did not use it when any one could see in case it should be found out, knowing it was illegal."

"You say that his relationship with you is his only delusion. What have you to say about this 'Jack'? It appears that during his confinement, Mr. Sutcliff referred to himself several times as 'Jack'. Insisted it was his name."

"It is my belief that Mr. Sutcliff cracked under the pressures that our line of work has. This is not the first time one of our agents has done so. However, I am not a doctor and cannot give you a definite answer. However, as previously stated, he is under medication and is seeing help. It appears that these methods are working and Sutcliff is back to normal."

"Do think Mr. Sutcliff is safe to return to dispatch and work in the field?" Asked the first.

"Yes, as long as he continues as he is."

"And if he does not?"

"I shall personally see to it that he does," William determined.

It could have better, but it could also have been worse, William decided. He could live with a pay cut and if things continued as they were, Sutcliff would be allowed back to dispatch in due time. Most days he would have thought he would be glad to be rid of Sutcliff, finally get him out of his hair. So why had he just insisted he remain in dispatch? He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on as he rode the elevator down to his floor and headed back to his office. Until, that is, he was pulled into a room by some unknown assailant and a soft kiss placed upon his lips.

The kiss was very pleasant. Very familiar. Like a memory from long ago. A forgotten memory. Long soft brown hair, green eyes that sparkled at him. William began to relax into the kiss and wrap his arms around the person, his fingers brushing against their long soft hair. Then something else familiar caught his attention. A very familiar perfume. He forcefully shoved the red head away and summoned his scythe.

"Now, Will, don't be cross," Grell begged, "I just wanted to thank you for saving me from Sebastian. I didn't get a chance to before….before…you know." He fiddled with a strand of his hair.

William adjusted his glasses with the end of his scythe, "Back to work, Sutcliff." He returned to his office with faint blush on his cheeks. No messages, reported Ms. Jennings. Thank you. He didn't want to be disturbed for the rest of the day. He locked the door, went over to the window and stared out in thought. Had William T. Spears once been in love?

Grell smiled softly as he pushed the mop along the floor. He had felt it. For just a split second, William had responded to his affections. In a good way. It appeared that Jack had been right and William noticed him, at least a little bit. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. It was time for his medication again. He wondered what had become of Jack.


	4. Ronnie In Paris

**Ronnie in Paris**

Ah, the city of love, Paris, the perfect place to party and pick up chicks. The blond haired death god breathed in the air as he took in the sights around him. He picked up his suitcase and walked down the thoroughfare with zest, flashing a flirtatious smile at a pretty young lass as he passed. This vacation was going to be a blast. He hailed a cab and gave the directions to the driver to the place where he would be staying, settling comfortably into the seat, hands clasped behind his head. Ready for a vacation free from overtime, crazy redheads and stick in the mud bosses.

He stepped out of the cab and looked up at the building. The words of the brochure had painted a slightly different picture. Oh, well, he wasn't a very sophisticated reaper to begin with. He lugged his suitcase up the creaky narrow staircase inside the apartment complex, yellow wallpaper faded and peeling from the walls. He made his way to the third floor. He started, swearing he had just seen a mouse. Finding his room, he hoped any dates he brought back wouldn't mind. Perhaps it wasn't too late to find a hotel.

Ronald flung his suitcase onto the single bed in the corner and with gusto, opened the shutters to a breathtaking view off….a brick wall. Maybe closing the deal before seeing the place wasn't the best idea after all. Ronald shrugged. He'd manage without the view. Tonight, it was frills and lace, music and dancing, and lots and lots of bare breasted French girls.

The Moulin Rouge, established in 1889 was all the scandal among the upright citizen. Parisian high society mixed with the rabble, thieves, drunkards, and rogues. And Ronald was just itching to get in on the action. Tomorrow there would be a party down on the Seine and Ronald had hopes it would lead to a lot more action.

(x)

Ronald sat at a café the following afternoon cradling his head. That was the last time he tried absinthe he decided as he downed his third cup of coffee. A well dressed man escorted a lady in a sweet getup to a seat a few tables over from Ronald. He tilted the brim of his hat up a little to get a better view as the man laid a gentle kiss on the woman's hand before taking his own. Ronald groaned and laid his head down in his arms. He must still be drunk. He could have sworn it was his boss sitting across the way.

The waiter came and asked if he wanted some more, or perhaps he would like something else. "Qui," he grumbled poorly in what little French he knew, "un tête nouveau." But he also ordered another coffee. Just imagine if it _was_ William sitting over there.

Poor Grell. Ronald felt sorry for him. William was riding him extra hard lately. He didn't know what Grell had done this time to receive such attention from William, but sometimes Ronald felt their boss pushed back a little too hard sometimes. Added in was the fact that Grell was once again hopelessly in love with him and if that was William over there, whew, he did not want to be at the office that day. Well, maybe he could hide out somewhere until his mentor needed his shoulder to cry on. He grimaced at the thought of all the tears and tissues. Then again, perhaps Grell might not cry on his shoulder, or at least it may come later. First he might make use of his scythe on the poor chit.

He looked up at the couple again. The waiter had come to take their orders. The woman started but the man silenced her and ordered for both of them in perfect French. The woman squealed in delight and started gushing compliments to her escort in French as well before leaning over and whispering in his ear. His cheeks turned red at her words. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

Holy smokes, it _was_ William! William T. Spears was on a date! And in the most romantic place in the world. Oh, this was too much. Now he wished he had gotten a better look at the woman. What if it was Ms. Jennings, William's secretary? Ronald knew she fancied him. What a scandal that would be?! As the only soldier on sight, it was his duty to observe and report this powerful bit of intelligence to the rest of the troops back home. He should have brought a camera.

Ronald pulled his hat low over his eyes and jerked the collar of his jacket up. The couple finished their refreshments and the woman jumped to her feet with exuberance pulling William to his feet and barely giving him time to pay before she dragged him out of the café. Ronald took this time to curse woman's clothing. Why did she have to wear such a hat? Ronald paid for his coffees and trailed after.

Their pace had slowed and the woman now clung to William's arm affectionately as they strolled along the Seine and then through the Jardin des Tuileries. 'Like a leech', thought Ronald. It occurred to Ronald that the woman had mannerisms very similar to that of his mentor. They returned to the Seine and stood looking out over it. William took the woman gently in his arms and kissed her which she returned with vigor. Her hat fell off allowing her long hair to fall free and Ronald to fall over in shock. Impossible! He must have wandered into one of his mentor's daydreams. Or he's still suffering from the effects of last night's frivolities. Either way this was trippy. He was going to faint.

"Ronnie?" Someone was holding his head and patting his cheek. "Ronnie, are you okay?" He opened his eyes to see Grell looking down on him in concern.

"Too much partying, Mr. Knox?" A cold, stoic voice that could only belong to one man asked. Ronald put a hand to his head and sat up.

"Yeah, I guess so and don't worry; I'll not do that again. That was a little too intense for my tastes…What are you two doing here anyway?"

"That is not-" Began William but Grell interrupted.

"William's on his way back from the business trip they made him take… _alone_ , I might add," he said with a disgruntled pout. "So I decided I would meet him here, in Paris and we could spend a romantic evening together." He looked up at William dreamily. Then he leaned over and whispered in Ronald's ear, "I've even talked him into staying the night." He added a wink and a giggle.

"Yeeeah, Senpai, I think you left something back home."

Grell straightened and seemed be going over a list in his head, "No I'm pretty sure I brought everything I needed. We won't need much after all. What is it you think I've forgotten?"

"Your sanity." Grell smacked him playfully.

"Are you fine, Mr. Knox, or do you need us to take you somewhere?" asked William.

"No, no, I'm fine," he said standing up and brushing himself off.

"Very well," said William and he walked a few steps before waiting for Grell to catch up who took his arm gleefully. "You didn't have to tell him our plans, honestly." Ronald heard him say. "And _whose_ idea was it to spend the night?" His lips brushing against Grell's ear as he spoke. It was all Grell could do not to squeal.

Ronald stared after them. Grell wasn't being delusional? They were _actually_ on a date? "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back it up!" They turned at looked back at him. "Boss, are _you_ feeling all right?"

"Do not be absurd, Mr. Knox."

"Cause," he laughed a little, "last time I checked, you hated Grell and here you are being all lovey-dovey with him. Did I miss something?"

"Oh, Ronnie," Grell rushed to him and took his hands, "I have just been dying to tell you, but Will thought it best to keep it to ourselves. You know how people gossip. Will and I have been dating for a few years now."

Ronald gawked at him, "B-but Grell…"

"He finally came around. Perhaps I should have played hard to get at the beginning."

"I never said I hated Grell, Mr. Knox. _Annoyed_ with, yes, but never hated. Grell," William held out his arm. Grell pranced back over to his prince and took it. "Excuse us, Mr. Knox, but we have reservations and you know how I feel about tardiness."

No, no, no. This was too weird. He dug in his pocket for his newly issued phone and quickly dialed the one person he knew who could make sense out of this, could offer him a bit of sanity.

"Alan Humphries."

"Hey, Al. The weirdest thing just happened."

"How's your vacation going?"

"Fine until now, Grell and the boss are here. On a date!"

"Mr. Spears must be making up for not being able to take Grell on the trip with him."

"Al, they're _dating_! They've _been_ dating."

"Yes, I know."

"I- what do you mean 'you know'?"

"Mr. Spears came to me for advice on how to ask Grell out. After Grell broke up with Eric, it didn't take long for me to figure it out. It was about time, don't you think?"

"But the boss…"

"Ronald, rest assured, Grell and Mr. Spears are quite happy together. I know Mr. Spears isn't known for his warm and caring side, but it's there, trust me. In fact, Mr. Spears recently asked Grell if he wanted to move in together."

Ronald ended the call and shoved the phone and his hands into his pockets. Sooo, the boss and Grell were dating. This should be interesting.

(x)

(I started this one sometime around writing AFT and takes place a few years after the Box. I have no idea if Jardin des Tuileries was in existence at this time.)


	5. It's Just Another Day

**It's Just Another Day**

With a frown he pushed the coffee mug away from him. It had too much sugar and tasted like it had been in the pot a few days. Nothing was going right that day. He laid his head down on the table with a groan. He overslept. Messed up on his makeup, twice, for being in such a rush. His toaster was on the fritz, he had found out, as his toast had come out looking like a charcoal briquette. In his mad rush to get to work, his ankle had come down awkwardly and twisted beneath him causing him to fall on his face in front of everyone, almost destroying the cake he carried. By the time he had arrived on the proper floor William was already hard at work and in no mood to be disturbed.

He had scolded him, making sure to include a brief lecture on tardiness. He supposed he should have expected the next course of action the way things had been going. No, William did not want any of the cake he had made him as he pushed him out of the room, incidentally shoving the cake up against Grell and slamming the door shut. He even locked it so Grell could not get back in. He had spent the next half hour or so in the bathroom scrubbing cake out of his hair and uniform.

For heaven's sake, all he had wanted to do was to give William a cake for his birthday. It wasn't big or extravagant and just for him. Grell hadn't even tried anything seductive…yet. William was extra cranky this day, it turned out.

"Tonight's group date is going to be super, from what I hear. The idol of general affairs is going to be there," Ronald said coming into the break room chatting with Eric and Alan following close behind. "I'm gonna get her number tonight, I can feel it! Rough day, old man?" Ronald cocked a grin at Grell as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Eric waited to pour himself one while Alan prepared a cup of tea and sat down across from Grell, reaching across the table to take Grell's hand in his.

"William again?" he asked.

"Everything," Grell mumbled, "but mostly William."

Ronald sat down taking a swig of coffee, "He's so chilly an icebox has got more warmth than he does. I don't know what you see in him."

Grell smiled gently and leaned back in his chair. If only they knew what he did. "Chilly Willy," he chuckled. He knew better. Underneath all that frost burned great passion buried deep within. All he had to do was to melt it and it was no easy task. If only he could remember how he had managed to get Will to fall in love with him the first time. He almost wished he could take a look at his cinematic record, but that would be cheating and would show more than he wanted to remember. Besides, they were under lock and key in a restricted area, as all humans that became reapers were. You practically had to be a Board member to access them.

Eric laughed, "Chilly Willy, we'll have to remember that one."

"Ice age alert," a fellow reaper poked his head in the break room, warning them that William was heading their way. Grell stayed seated while the others scrambled for the door.

"Grell, aren't you coming?" Alan asked.

"No," he answered haughtily, taking out his nail file.

"Your funeral," Eric muttered, dragging Alan behind him, Ronald already having made tracks.

A moment later, William entered the break room. Grell could have swooned from the look he was receiving from him. "Sutcliff." A chill ran down his spine from the coldness in his voice. William was not happy. Grell wondered what he had done wrong now (other than avoiding paperwork by hiding in the break room).

Grell got up, prancing over to William to stand close. "Looking for me, darling?" He pushed the door closed all the way behind William. "Something you want to 'get off' your chest?" He fluttered his lashes, trailing his fingers up William's arm. William grabbed Grell's hand and shoved it away. Grell could see the disgust in his eyes as he did so.

"We have been assigned to collect some souls together."Grell brightened. It had been so long since they had collected souls together. He squealed and hopped up and down in delight before reaching up and pecking William on the cheek. William summoned his scythe and Grell promptly stepped back, reigning in his excitement. "Let's go."

They ended up near one of the seedier parts of London. A warehouse near the river that ran through the area had caught fire. As they collected the souls that perished, Grell envied William's scythe, shiny and modified. His own was the standard boring old one issued to all. But just wait. He was working on plans to make a modified scythe of his own. One the likes no one had seen before.

Only one more to go and William was handling it. So Grell sat down on the edge of a stone wall outside the warehouse to wait and looked around. He had had an odd sense of familiarity ever since they arrived, though he couldn't remember ever working this area before. Several of the buildings near the warehouse were abandoned or up for sale. One in particular caught Grell's eye. It was an old playhouse theater that looked like it hadn't seen a soul in many, many years. The more he looked at it, the more he was certain he had been there before. Before he realized it, he was standing in front of its doors and forcing them open. Puffs of dust rose from beneath his feet with each step he took, making his way to the stage area. Looking at the stage gave him chills and an uneasy feeling. He shuddered and continued on to the back area behind the stage where broken and forgotten props covered in thick layers of dust and cobwebs lay.

He came to a door. Here, the changing rooms were through here. "Sutcliff." Will's stern voice jerked him out of his half remembering. He turned to see William standing a short distance away. For a moment, Grell could see a kinder, gentler William. His eyes were not those of a reaper, but brown. The image was fleeting and soon replaced with an unhappy, stern version, obviously ill-pleased in having to waste time in chasing after Grell and Grell remembered. This…this was the place where he had first met William. Right, right over there, by those crates. He sometimes wondered what had happened between them but he hoped he never found out the answer. Why remember something that could be nothing but heartbreaking?

The man before him and the man in his memories were so different that Grell sometimes had trouble believing they were the same person. He remembered a soft smiles, gentle touches, and warm embraces. Not this cold machine of a man he had become. Grell didn't doubt that he been the cause of this change, as he always seemed to screw up in some form.

It was disgusting. _He_ was disgusting. So desperate for William's love and affection that he would revel in the cold, fiery glares that he would fix upon Grell's body, even going so far as to piss him off on purpose to elicit a reaction. He was pathetic but he was certain. They had fallen in love once. They could do it again, but Grell was running out of ideas. Decades had gone by and nothing had changed between them and Grell didn't know how much longer he could keep doing this. In fact, he was thinking of spending some time away from everyone and everything having to deal with reapers at the advice of a friend. They didn't agree about William, in fact his friend seemed to hold a grudge against William, but he was willing to help Grell try and woo him and for that Grell was grateful to him.

Grell didn't notice William come closer until the shaft of William's scythe came down over his head. There was no call for that! It was one thing when he purposely did something, but to abuse him without provocation! Did he think he was in here slacking off? He presented his ledger as proof that he had done his share of the work. He may hate paperwork, but he excelled in field work. William should know that by now. Satisfied, William prepared for their return, though Grell was not certain he was ready to leave. What other memories did he share with William in this place? He wondered as he glanced around. The falling down structure offered no more than what it already provided, keeping its secrets, both happy and sad.

Back in the other realm, Grell parted from William. The gloom and despair of their lost love weighing heavily on him. He could not bear to be in presence another minute, lest he should break down and cry. Finding sanctuary in his office, where he did manage to complete some of the paperwork, hopefully enough for William to be satisfied and not come in here and see the mascara that had run down Grell's cheeks from the few tears that managed to escape.

All in all, it was a depressing day.

His morning started out like any other morning. Hygiene, dressing, and grooming followed by the ritualistic breakfast of toast and grapefruit accompanied by a beverage of his choosing which was determined by how much caffeine he judged he needed for the morning. Every morning was the same short route from the flats where he resided to the building in which his office was and riding the lift to the floor that it was on, glancing at the few workers that had arrived early. Humphries, as usual, was among them. Sutcliff, as usual, was not and was not expected to arrive for at least another hour. As soon as he was in his office, he went to work.

Fifteen minutes earlier than expected, but still late for work, the door to his office burst open to admit the dreaded redhead, holding a cake and looking slightly disheveled. "Happy birthday, Will-darling…I made you a cake." He held up the cake for William to see.

There it was, that absurd term of endearment. How many times must he tell this disgrace to the association that he was not 'his darling' or 'his man' or whatever else popped into that insane mind. And how the _hell_ did he know when his birthday was? Had he somehow gotten access to his records? Not even William remembered when he had been born as a human, but then Sutcliff seemed to know things about William that no one, not even William knew.

Grell's lashes fluttered at him. No. Just, no. He was not putting up with this today. This was not the time or the place for frivolous activities, especially those no longer of any consequence. And he told Sutcliff this as well as reprimanding him for his tardiness all the while pushing him out the door. He made sure to shut and lock the door, vaguely aware that the cake had gotten ruined on Sutcliff's non-regulation uniform. Now, maybe he could get some work done.

Going back to his desk, he noticed some case files were missing and cases 409-5587 through 409-5614 were not completed properly. So now he had to spend time tracking down missing files and questioning the agent responsible, more time that could have been spent usefully in other matters if people would do their jobs properly. After getting that straightened out, he returned to his office to find a change to the death list. A warehouse on - Street was to catch fire and it was to be a joint assignment between him and …no, anyone but _him_. Besides, this job should not require the use of two agents and certainly did not require the supervisor of the Dispatch, but sorting it out would require more paperwork and not worth the effort. It was simpler to do the assignment as given. However, Personnel would be receiving a letter from him requesting this not happen in the future.

He pocketed a few aspirin from his desk, feeling he would need them, and went in search of his assigned partner for the day. Of course he wasn't in his office. William did not know why he had even bothered to go there first. He was not at Knox' desk or in the office co inhabited by Slingby and Humphries, noticing these agents were also absent from their work. This left one likely spot and he should have saved himself some time and gone there first. The break room.

Sure enough, as he neared the break room, Knox shortly followed by Slingby and Humphries darting from the room and vanishing out of his sight. He could deal with them later. He stepped into the break room and fixed the redhead he had been searching for with a look that should have displayed his displeasure. In a flash, the redhead was invading his personal space, touching him, speaking to him in a most unprofessional manner. The innuendo he made was appalling. Absolutely inappropriate behavior.

Honestly, it was just a standard collection assignment. The fact that they had to do it together was nothing to get excited over.

He supposed he should be grateful Sutcliff was focusing on their assignment instead of slacking off. Perhaps he was upset over the cake incident. Not that it mattered to William. In fact, William welcomed the silence and lack of attention he was getting from Sutcliff as it frequently messed with his head and usually left him with a headache.

William stamped "complete" on the last entry in the ledger. Now that that was over with, they should return and with any luck, complete the required paperwork before the day was over. "Have you finished, Sutcliff?" No answer. He was alone in the warehouse. William's blood simmered. If Sutcliff had failed to collect any of the souls assigned to him, so help him…He took a breath and calmed himself. Sutcliff may be lousy in his paperwork and proper work conduct, but he rarely missed a collection.

Sutcliff wasn't outside. There was no trace of a portal, so he must still be in the mortal realm. William spotted an old rundown theater and it was evident someone had entered it recently. He pushed up his glasses with the end of his scythe. They didn't have time for a goose chase, growling in frustration he followed the footprints left in the dust by Sutcliff's high heeled boots. Honestly, what was so interesting about an old rundown theater?

He entered the backstage area and spotted Sutcliff reaching for a doorknob to enter some room, pleased that he had had the foresight to bring the aspirin as he felt a headache coming on as predicted. A severe one, if he was any proper judge. There must be some mold or manner of infestation in the building as he felt dizzier and dizzier the longer he was in there. His vision blurred in which he could have sworn Sutcliff's hair color had changed for a moment. "Sutcliff," he called and the illusion was gone. Sutcliff turned to look at him and it was an odd look. One William could not make sense of. William approached him and promptly smacked him on the head with his death scythe.

"Ow! William!" he whined and the look was gone, "What was that for? I completed my list. Here, look." He held out his ledger for William. William took it and scanned the contents while Grell waited patiently. He shut the book sharply and handed it back, satisfied.

"Let us return. There is much to do and I expect to have the paperwork finished and on my desk by the time your shift is over." Not that he truly expected it. However, if it truly was his birthday, what a better present than for Sutcliff to surprise him and actually finish it on time?

William prepared a portal, Sutcliff hesitated. "What is it?"

Sutcliff fidgeted and glanced around. "N-nothing," he answered meekly. "We should be getting back." Sutcliff stepped into the portal and parted ways from William, heading towards his own office. William could have sworn he was downtrodden about something. Probably an act to earn his sympathy, he supposed as he swallowed a few aspirin to combat the headache before returning to his office.

As it turned out, William received less than half of it, bearing several mistakes. So all in all, it was an ordinary day in most respects.


	6. Cold Medicine Part 1

_Cold Medicine_

Something was wrong. The office was quiet. Too quiet. William pressed the button on the intercom. "Ms. Jennings, send Sutcliff in."

There was silence for a moment before she answered, "Mr. Sutcliff has not come in today."

"Then send me Mr. Knox."

"Very well, sir. Will there be anything else?"

"That will be all, thank you." Well that mystery was solved. The peacefulness was due to Sutcliff's absence and he had chosen today of all days to lay out of work. There was a hesitant knock on the door. "Come in." William set down his pen and folded his hands upon his desk, giving Knox his full attention.

"Ya wanted to see me, boss?"

"Sutcliff has not come in today."

Knox seemed to breathe a sigh of relief; he wasn't the one in trouble. "He called in sick."

"Nonsense. Sutcliff is the healthiest agent in the department, apart from myself. He is simply trying to get out of work."

"He sounded awfully sick on the phone. Do ya really think he's faking it?" William looked at him skeptically. "Ya want me to go and fetch him?"

"No, _I_ will go," he answered, getting up from his desk and shuffling the already neat pile of papers into an even neater pile. "It will be faster if I go. His flat is not too far; therefore I should not be gone too long. Regardless, I expect everyone to use this time wisely and not as an opportunity to play."

"Uh, sure, boss, except Grell doesn't live there anymore. He's moved to the other end of town."

"Since when?" Of course the situation had to become more difficult because Sutcliff was involved.

"A few weeks ago. I'm surprised he didn't tell ya."

William was surprised too, though he was grateful at the same time. Sutcliff would have gone on about it and include several offers to come over and see it and also to engage in _other_ activities. Knox provided him with the address and he set out.

It looked…cozy, to say the least. At least on the outside. A somewhat small house with a red roof. Of course it had a red roof. He was surprised the whole outside of the house wasn't red. He cringed. If the outside wasn't, the inside certainly would be. William stepped up to the door and knocked sharply. He heavy sighed upon receiving no answer and tested the knob, finding the door unlocked. He didn't want to enter without permission. He didn't want to enter at _all_. Knowing Sutcliff, he would be all too eager to have William, or any male he fancied at the time alone in his house.

He opened the door all the way and braced himself for what he foresaw to be something one might find in a brothel. When he lived in the flat, Sutcliff was limited in what he was allowed to do to it. Now that he had free reign, William dreaded what that flamboyant man would do to his abode. He stepped inside. It was…normal. The front hall was anyway. The only red in sight was the strip of carpeting going up the staircase. It was safe to assume the bedroom, or bedrooms were upstairs and like it or not, that was most likely where Sutcliff was. Wanting prolong that scene, he decided to check downstairs first. Just to be certain.

The living room was just as the outside promised: cozy, with only touches of red here and there. The largest being the sofa that sat in front of the fireplace. On the mantelpiece over said fireplace, William noticed two handmade dolls that appeared to be Sutcliff and himself sitting side by side. Ignoring them, he moved on to the dining room. The dining room was rather plain. Red roses sat in a vase on the table. The kitchen was small. Hardwood floors ran though the downstairs, except the kitchen which had tile. While a little cramped, William could see the practicality of living in such a home.

Having confirmed what he already knew, that Sutcliff was not downstairs, he adjusted his glasses and started up the stairs. There were three doors. One was most likely a bathroom as he had not seen one on the first floor. The one closest to the stairs, from which a soft light could be seen glowing from underneath the door was the most likely of the remaining two that held the person he sought. So with only a moment of hesitation, he rapped on the door.

"Whoever it is, go away," Sutcliff answered. The door stayed closed. His voice sounded strained and his nose stuffy. Knox was right, he did _sound_ sick. But sounding sick and being sick were two different things.

"It is William T. Spears, your frustrated supervisor," he answered. "I am here to inquire as to why you did not come in to work this morning." What followed, William perceived to be stunned silence. "May I," shudder, "come in?"

"No! Go away, Will. I'm sick. That should be reason enough. Didn't Ronnie tell you?"

"He did, but I did not believe him, knowing what an 'actress' you can be."

"I really am sick…so go away." William heard what sounded like someone blowing their nose. Could he really be sick?

"I'm coming in," he announced. 'Please be decently dressed,' he prayed, turning the knob and opening the door.

"No! Don't come in! Don't-!" William entered in time to see the top of Grell's head disappear beneath the covers. Used tissues littered the top of the bed and the floor beside. A wardrobe sat on the far side of the room next to a full length mirror. A cluttered vanity sat nearby. This room by far had the most red, but not garishly so. The room was also more sedate than William expected. William didn't know what shocked him more, the normalcy of the house or the fact that Grell had William alone in his bedroom and was not trying to jump him, despite how sick he claimed to be.

Unseen by William, was the small smile Grell had on his face at that moment. The last thing he wanted was for William to see him like this, hence hiding under the covers, but William had _come_ and just that thought made Grell feel much better. Though, he still did not feel like going into work and if he played his cards right, maybe he could keep William here with him at least a little longer. William could take care of him. "I'm sorry, Will, but I'm just too sick to come in today." He risked a peek from under his covers and saw William looking around his room. "Will," he said weakly, "I know you're busy. You really should be getting back to work, but before you go, do you think you could make me a cup of tea? It will help me feel better and I don't think I can make it down to the kitchen."

William eyed him for a moment before saying, "If it will get you back to work faster…"

Grell coughed and pulled another tissue under the covers to blow his nose again. "Oh it will, darling. Please…"

William pushed his glasses up his nose. "This means absolutely nothing. We are busy right now and we need as you working as soon as possible," he stated with no emotion.

"Of course not, darling," Grell answered, biting back a squeal. William was going to make him tea!

As soon as William was out of the room and Grell was certain the coast was clear, he sprang from his bed to his vanity, quickly wiping off the facial mask he had applied moments before William had knocked on his door. "Oh dear," he said upon seeing himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red. His nose wasn't much better, being as red as his hair. His hair was bedraggled. Though if he wanted to convince William he was sick, it was for the best, he decided. "Oh dear." Well, the least he could do was brush his hair and put on something a little more flattering than these old pajamas. Nothing too revealing, lest William get the wrong idea. He promptly stripped out of the old and pulled on a simple red nightgown and quickly ran a brush through his hair. Hearing the tea kettle whistling, what he had done would have to make do and jumped back under the covers. Just a minute or two later, William arrived with the tea.

Grell slowly sat up to lean against the headboard, trying to look as sick and weak as possible. "Thank you so much, da-"

"I am not your darling."

Grell puffed on his tea before taking a sip, all the meanwhile watching William from beneath his lashes. He was presumably looking at the mess of tissues that surrounded Grell and deciding whether or not to leave it and be on his way or to clean it up. He started to leave and it was on the tip of Grell's tongue to beg him to stay when William turned around and grabbed the wastebasket near the nightstand and began picking up the discarded tissues. "Honestly."

"Will, you don't have to do that."

William looked up at him sharply. "If you have been too weak to make yourself a cup of tea, how have you been eating?"

"I-I was strong enough yesterday. I wasn't as sick then, but this morning I haven't even had so much as a scrap of toast. I couldn't have asked you to do that, darling. You've already been so generous with your time even though you're terribly busy."

William sat down on the bed, leant over him and eyed him closely. Grell swallowed thickly. All he could think about was that the last time they had been this close together and in bed together was when William had gotten drunk once. His heart pounded in his chest and his face flushed at the memory. William had wanted him that night and darn it, he had almost had him, but then William had to go and pass out right after they had undressed. So Grell settled for snuggling his bare form against William's while they slept. Since then William had been even more cold and standoffish to him.

William pressed a hand to Grell's forehead, "You feel warm, but I sincerely doubt you have a fever."

"Maybe your chilling stare cooled it out of me." Grell took William's hand in his.

"Or maybe you are playing up how sick you are to try to earn my sympathies and make me stay longer," William returned, jerking his hand away.

Grell floundered for a moment, ashamed that he had let his emotions get to him. "Like I would do that!" he said indignantly. "How dare you suggest such a thing?! If you remember I told you to go away and leave me alone, but you barged, _without permission_. Nor have I asked you for anything more than a cup of tea."

"For someone as weak as you claim to be, you certainly seem to have a lot of energy to protest in such a manner."

"You riled me is all. You know what they say about adrenaline," Grell brushed it off with a jerk of his chin. Next thing Grell knew, he was being dragged from the bed by William. "Ow! Will! If you want to be so rough, do it _in_ the bed!"

"You almost had me convinced. Now get dressed," he said, releasing his bruising hold on Grell's wrist with ferocity after he dragged him from the bed. "You're going to put in your full time today, even if it means staying late plus extra to make for the time wasted in having to bring you in."

"That's not fair!"

"Considering the backup you have caused in the department today by choosing not to come in, I think it is more than fair."

"But I really have been sick, Will!"

"And now you are well enough that you can do what has been assigned to you. What made you think you could get out of it?"

"Oh," Grell tried to answer while twiddling his fingers, before turning his back to William, "You wouldn't understand."

"I thought I told you to get dressed."

Grell smiled and looked over his shoulder. "You can't really expect a lady to get dressed with a gentleman in the room."

"No I do not. Since there is no lady in this room-"

"Suit yourself." Grell's smile grew and he slowly began to remove his nightgown.

"I shall wait outside the room. Do not be forever about it." William left the room and closed the door after him. Grell thought he saw a touch of color in his cheeks.

William was so sweet to come over and make him tea. He supposed he could come in and work today after all. Best not keep William waiting. Grell quickly dressed and made himself suitable to seen in public. Once done, he opened the door to see William looking at his pocket watch. He caught him and kissed him and danced out of reach before he could be smacked by a death scythe. William scowled at him as he removed the lipstick stain from his lips with his handkerchief. Then William grabbed Grell by the hair and dragged him from the house and to the dispatch floor, pulling him to Grell's office and shoving him down into his chair behind the desk.

"Get to work," he ordered, his voice colder and scarier than before.

"So forceful, Will. Nhn~"Grell blew a kiss at him. "Thank you for the tea," he said sweetly as William left before pulling a tissue from the box on his desk and sneezing into it.


	7. Victory Has A Bitter Taste

William went to work that day dreading what was to come. It was the day he no longer needed a senior partner to accompany him on reapings, but would be paired with a partner and William unfortunately knew who this partner was to be. Grell Sutcliff. Was he to be forever cursed with this insufferable man?

He reported to the dispatch supervisor's office as ordered, entering after knocking politely and waiting for the response to enter. The redhead was not in sight. William assumed he was late. Of course he was late. Instead, there were two reapers unfamiliar to William as well as the Mr. Habernathy the dispatch supervisor, and William's senior partner.

"William T. Spears, allow me to introduce you to your new partner: Andrei Z-…Zee…Zeelbo-" Habernathy struggled with the last name.

"Zheloboskaia," said the younger of the pair unfamiliar to William with a foreign accent. William glanced at his new partner in interest. Fair skin and light brown hair. He had an earring in one ear of what looked like to be a pigeon. A Russian, judging by the accent.

"Thank you. Congratulations to the two of you," Habernathy said in a monotonous voice. "Here are your assignments for the day." He handed each of them a folder. "Good luck."

"Congrats kid, knew you could do it," William's senior agent said, slapping him hard on the back.

"Pardon me, sir," William spoke up despite his inner voice telling him to leave the matter alone, "I thought I was to be paired with Grell Sutcliff." Habernathy fixed his gaze on William and William quickly added, "I am just curious as to the sudden change."

"Mr. Sutcliff has been deemed unsuitable for field work at this time and has been transferred to another department," was his answer.

William was relieved and even a little elated. No Sutcliff. Praise the heavens! _'At this time…'_ Habernathy's words reminded him. Sutcliff might be back one day. Therefore, William should not slack off and accomplish his goal.

As he proceeded to the room reserved for the lower level agents, those not of senior level, he opened the file and read the contents. The Russian walked beside him. "This Sutcliff is friend?" he asked.

William almost laughed at the idea. "Far from it. You might say he is an archenemy. If you met him, you would understand," he answered, taking a seat at his desk. He had a collection scheduled for that afternoon.

"You want go get drinks later? A leetle celebration?"

"I don't drink." Not socially anyway and never to the point of inebriation. The last time had proved to be quite disastrous.

"Your loss, my friend." He sat down at a nearby desk, propping his feet up and taking a swig from a flask he had procured from the insides of the leather trencher he wore.

"I do not have friends. Nor do I want friends. Our job is to ferry souls to the afterlife, not form a social club."

"No lyubovnik?"

"Excuse me?" William shot him a confused look.

"No, how you say…rabeet? Er, no, that is not right either."

 _Rabbit? Why would I have a rabbit? Rabbit. Rabbit._ _Rabbits were known for their quick breeding…oh._ Sex. "Lover, you mean?"

"Yes! Lover. That is the word."

"You ask a lot of questions." William pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"We are going to be working together a long time. We should get to know one another, even if we cannot be friends."

"Then in answer to your question, if I do not have friends, what makes you think I would have a lover?" Mr. Z, as William decided to call him for now, shrugged his shoulders. "What is a Russian agent doing in England?"

"Something about improving foreign department relations or something. There was also mention of how your London Branch was always short in the dispatch."

"Mister-"

"Call me 'Andrei'."

"It is not my habit to call others by their first name."

"Maybe not, but it is better than making chop of my last name."

It was also better than calling him 'Mr. Z'. "Very well, Andrei, we should be getting on with our work. We shall have plenty of time to get to know one another."

"You are right," Andrei agreed, taking his feet down and setting to work.

(x)

Grell sneered at her reflection in the mirror. _This_ was her work uniform? It was ugly and most unflattering to her figure. There must be some mistake. Surely there had been some mistake. She was supposed be in the dispatch department, not stuck in the basement manufacturing death scythes while wearing these disgusting coveralls. This wasn't because she refused to date the old prune she had been paired with after graduation, was it?

She turned to look at herself from a different angle and gasped. No, no, no, no, no. There was no way she was going to wear this to work. Not when it made her butt look big and fat. She worked too hard for this figure to around looked like a hippopotamus. She hoped to high heaven that William never saw her in it. In fact, she would make certain of that. Removing the garment, she sought for her sewing box, now confident enough in her sewing skills to pull this off.

(x)

Andrei proved to be a very efficient partner and William got on well with him, having an excellent work ethic. His English had even improved somewhat. William was interested to find Andrei had a custom made scythe. Approved, of course. And William soon inquired how to obtain a custom scythe of his own. One more suited to his tastes. Like Andrei's, he would prefer his scythe to have a bit of reach to it. Andrei's was fixed with two poles affixed together near the 'blades', which were two shovel like ends, one at the end of each pole*. Andrei helped him to draw up the plans and to submit the necessary paperwork. Approval was received and William and Andrei were now on their way down to the lower levels of the building to submit everything to the proper department.

They walked up to the counter where a scrawny agent with a rat like face waited. The agent opened his mouth to speak only to be shoved out of the way before he could a word out. The newcomer leaned over the counter with their chin in their hands and a big, sharp toothed grin on their face. Their work uniform had been modified to have a skirt instead of pants and a more feminine cut in the top.

William hardened his gaze. Perfect. He should have known better than to think his relief from his Sutcliff problem would have been shorter than predicted. On the bright side though, Sutcliff was here and not up there with William. William would not have to see him everyday. Once he had his custom scythe, he would not have to be back down here for a long time to come. A small smirk formed on his lips. Sutcliff was at the bottom of the food chain. Rarely does one make their way up from this pit, and Sutcliff work ethic was appalling. "So this is where they stuck you, Sutcliff?"

"No," Andrei said incredulously, "this gorgeous maiden is Sutcliff?" He looked to William for an answer. Grell and William both looked to Andrei. Grell in shock and blush on his cheeks and William with slight annoyance. "I thought you said Sutcliff was a man."

" _He_ is," William said bluntly.

A look of hurt crossed Grell's face. "You're so cruel," Grell frowned, "Just because I-"

William cut him off, placing the documents on the counter and sliding them to the other side in order. "I have a request for a custom scythe. You shall find the necessary paperwork in this folder and the basic plans for what I desire are here."

"I have all you desire right here."

"This may be too much to ask from the likes of you," William continued, ignoring the other's innuendo, "but see that my request is finished in a timely manner and by someone who knows what they are doing."

"Have you no faith in me, Will-darling?"

"No." William frowned.

"May I remind you who the A-student is around here, Mr. B-average?" Grell bristled.

"And yet I am up there and you are down here. Goodbye, Sutcliff."

Andrei made to follow after William but his hand was snagged by Grell. "William forgets his manners sometimes. He never introduced us properly. I am Grell Sutcliff, the deadliest of reapers. What's your name, sweetie?"

"Andrei Zhelobovskaia. I apologize if I offended you. Your appearance makes you look like a woman."

"That's because I am a woman."

"Oh."

"William, and most everybody else, simply refuses to accept it."

"Yes, well, it was nice to meet you," he tried to leave but Grell grip on his hand remained firm.

"Just a moment. You are William's partner?"

"Yes."

"Take care of him for me." Andrei detected a hint of sadness and longing in Grell's voice in that request as Grell released his hand and left the counter with the items left by William. Andrei didn't have preferences, but he could honestly say he had not met anyone like Grell Sutcliff before. He couldn't imagine what an A-average student could have done to wind up in this department.

"I hope," Andrei began after he had caught up with William. They were back at their desks and William had not spoken to him in over an hour. "I hope you are not mad that I paid Sutcliff…that I called him a gorgeous maiden."

"Why would I be mad? It is your affair not mine if you decide to indulge in his ludicrous hallucinations, however, I do not advise it."

"May I ask what makes you dislike him so? He seems to like you." _A lot._

"His work ethic is deplorable and he squanders his talents. I assure you, he is merely interested in one thing regarding my person."

Andrei thought he understood now why William did not return the obvious sentiments dropped by Sutcliff and he was not sure how felt about this man's interest in his partner. One thing for certain, Sutcliff was undesirable indeed if he could not take the job seriously. They worked in silence until the evening came. Gathering their things and preparing to clock out, Andrei asked a question.

"How would you like to eat dinner with me tonight?"

"Thank you, but I would prefer to spend the evening at home."

"Your place then."

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant and I was very much like you when I first became a child of Morena*. I thought to be the best agent I could be meant no friends. Our lives are long. Too long to spend alone, I realized. One could go mad. If it does not interfere with our job, it should be no problem. What do you say?" He asked, his hand stuck out in a handshake.

*A post hole digger.

*Child of Morena: I researched the Russian version of the grim reaper and the closest I could find was the Slavic goddess of death, Morena. It was either go with that or translate "grim reaper" or "death god" into Russian. So I chose Morena.

(x)

William had to say, it was somewhat nice to have someone around who understood him. Andrei was strictly professional at work, as promised and very accommodating. He had fetched William's new scythe so that William would not have to deal with Sutcliff. Upon receiving it, William spent a moment in deliberation as to whether or not to send a letter to the head of the scythe manufacturing department in regards to allowing its agents to put their own personal likes into the design of someone else's scythe. Not that William had specifically requested or denied any colors; he would have preferred blue and not the red he received. No doubt, a certain someone that worked there had influenced it.

It was Andrei who managed to intercept Sutcliff every time Sutcliff managed to get out of the basement to visit William and give William time to get away. This had come about after one particular stressful day. Sutcliff had come up for a visit and in his antics had spilt a cup of coffee all over William's desk and paperwork. A good portion of a day's work destroyed. Habernathy had awarded William overtime to fix it. Andrei insisted on staying behind with William to help. It was not necessary, but William was grateful in the end as they rushed to finish it and get it done before it got really late.

Finally clocking out, they went back to William's flat for dinner, it being the closest. They sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee while dinner cooked on the stove. "Am I glad that is over," Andrei breathed in relief, taking out his flask and added a dash of the alcohol contained within to his mug. Though he had never seen him drunk, William found that Andrei enjoyed his liquor. William eyed the flask, tempted to ask for some to soothe away the tension from today's debacle. Andrei noticed his stare and offered it to him, but William made no move to take it. "If you are wanting to relieve stress, I know of a way to do it that does not involve alcohol."

William was unsure if his actions had merely removed the old stress and replaced it with new. He debated as he lay awake in the early hours of the morning. Unsure as to why he had agreed to it. Perhaps he had temporarily gone mad from the stress of the previous day. Perhaps he had been running away in a sense from Sutcliff. Andrei was also a very persuasive fellow. His solution had made sense at the time. He certainly liked Andrei, but he didn't know how he felt about him now. Once he had gotten over the initial awkwardness, having no experience in it (to his knowledge), he had enjoyed himself. He just wished he knew where all of this was going. What affects it had on their relationship. For while he did like him, he could not say that he loved him.

Andrei stirred beside him and rolled over to wrap his arms around William. "Can't sleep, moi zaichik?"

"Just thinking…What does 'zaichik' mean?"

"Mm," he chuckled and kissed his neck, "A term of affection in my country. You are a very fast learner, my little hare. After the way you went at me last night, I thought it fit. Either you were had more stress than I realized or you enjoyed our first go so much you had to have more, followed by some more." He laughed.

William smiled. "Can it be both?"

"If you want…what were you thinking about?"

"What this means. Has it changed us? I am not sure…"

"It does not have to mean anything. Nothing has to change between us. We were just relieving some stress, if that is what you want."

"I…do not know what I want," William said slowly.

"I would not be sneaking kisses during work, if that is what you are worried about."

"No. I know that you would not." William ran his fingers through Andrei's hair. "But until I figure out what it is I want, can we remain friends for now?"

"Of course. And if you ever want to relieve stress again, just let me know…anytime. It will just be sex and does not have to mean anything until you say otherwise."

And since then, Andrei had been intent on keeping Sutcliff away from William. Whether this was to curry favor, William was not certain, but the act was appreciated all the same. Time went by. Years passed and the two were still on much the same terms as they had been. The only thing that changed was that they would occasionally have sex and they were both now senior agents who had chosen to share an office.

The amount of visits from Sutcliff decreased suddenly until he stopped coming. William had not seen him for some time. Therefore, he had not been expecting to find him outside the door of his flat one night. "I'm sorry for intruding on you like this, Will, but I had to see you. To hear you deny it. I suppose it is all my fault if it _is_ true. I did ask him to look after you for me, but I didn't mean for him to…"

"What are you babbling about, Sutcliff?"

"Your partner!" He burst angrily. "I overheard you two talking some time ago and I looked up some of the words he said to you. You two are sleeping together, aren't you?"

William scowled and adjusted his glasses. "So what if we are? It is none of your business."

"Yes or no, William, answer me."

"If it will shut you up and make you go away then, yes, we are."

"No!" Grell screamed, clapping his hands over his ears and shaking his head. "You can't! You can't do that to us!"

"There is no 'us'. There never has and there never _will_ be an 'us'."

"You don't know what you are saying! Don't say that!" Sutcliff looked to be on the verge of tears, but William did not care as he shut the door in the hysterical man's face, having had enough of his nonsensical screeching.

"I have decided," William said during lunch the next day, "that I want our nights together to mean something." He knew he was only saying this because of Grell's emotional outburst from the day before. Like some unknown force was compelling him to do this, to ensure that Sutcliff could never have William. He could not say that he loved Andrei, but he enjoyed spending time with him. They had a good thing together, why should he not take the next step and make his partner happy?

Andrei smiled but before he could reply, there was an outburst at the table beside them. "No way!" The couple turned their attention to the group of reapers gathered around a table as another voiced their shock at whatever gossip one of them was sharing. "The freak Sutcliff?"

"That's what I heard. He's been made head of the basement rejects. Promoted a couple years ago from what I understand.

"Struts around the place like he's a king, or in case, a queen," chimed in another. The others snickered at his comment.

William took in this news with revulsion. William had only recently been made a senior agent and Sutclifff had been made the head of his department a few years ago? At this rate, Sutcliff would be back in dispatch in no time and William would have little to no control over him in his current position.

(x)

The wooden deck creaked beneath their feet. Several members of the crew were listed to die that night from a fever that had infected the ship. Demonic activity was suspected, therefore both William and Andrei had been sent. Stepping down below deck, they were hit by the unmistakable odor that hung thickly in the air and permeated the interior of the ship. William tightened the grip on his scythe. Caution was needed, even if most demons would be hard pressed to hold their own against two well-trained agents and many would simply stay out of their way.

A threatened hiss echoed from somewhere in the darkness where the light from the lamps could not reach. "Are we disturbing your late night snack?" Andrei taunted it.

"Please refrain from antagonizing the low-life," William gently chided. "Let's get this done quickly."

"Da, moi golub," answered Adrei, following William to the bunk of the first to die. The sailor breathed his last and William collected his soul. "One down, six t-"

Andrei stopped suddenly and William heard a sinister voice say, "One down, one to go." William spun around to see the demon behind Anrei. A clawed hand stuck through Andrei's chest.

Andrei smiled faintly at William. "Do svidaniya, zaichik." Blood trickled from his mouth. "Ya lyu…ya lyublyu-" The light faded from his eyes. His body fell to the floor as the demon ripped the heart from his chest. Fire burned in William's eyes as struck out in anger. His scythe was not suited for these close quarters, but he managed to land several wounds on the demon before managing to pin him to the wall. Using Andrei's scythe, he removed the demon's head from its body. He glanced at Andrei's lifeless form before reclaiming his scythe and carrying on with the assignment.

What happened to the soul of a reaper when they die? Were they forgiven of the transgression that brought them to this world? Or were they waiting to be reborn so they could finish their sentence? William did not have the answers as he stood before the grave of his partner. The funeral had been well attended by those who could make it. William could not say any of them were friends of Andrei or himself, but Andrei had been well respected and death among their kind was a serious matter to all. They had left as soon as the time deemed sufficient, decent, and proper had passed to go about their business. The world does not stop for the death of an agent.

A strong breeze came and ruffled William's hair and carrying the scent of a woman's perfume. "Your presence is unwanted, Sutcliff," he said without bothering to turn around.

"I just came to offer my condolences," Grell answered in a soft voice. "And to apologize for my outburst the other day."

"Go away."

Grell closed the distance to stand beside William. "Not until I pay my respects," he said, placing a rose on the headstone.

William grabbed the offensive flower and crushed it, throwing it to the ground before turning on him, his annoyance growing when he saw that Sutcliff was dressed in the mourning garments of a woman. He grabbed the other by the collar. "You have no respect. Not for Andrei. Not for me. Not for anyone, including yourself. If you wanted to show respect, you would have stayed the hell away from me. Leave me alone." He shoved Sutcliff away from him and went to find solace in work.

A few years later, William received a letter in his inbox. Habernathy was being promoted to branch supervisor and a new dispatch supervisor was needed. William had been recommended for the job. One of the reasons stated was his handling of the incident that ended his partner's life. His victory, it seemed, was bittersweet. How could he not accept when a price had been paid for it? And this new position should give him the ability to control Sutcliff should he ever return to the upper levels.

He nodded at the freshly painted letters on the door and stepped inside his new office…


	8. Cold Medicine Part 2

**Cold Medicine part 2**

 **The Point of View changes a few times and therefore the pronouns regarding Grell also change. Hopefully there is no confusion.**

A hacking cough wracked his frame and lasted for several moments before abating. He blew his nose, which was aggravating as he had just blown it right before he started coughing. The used tissue was discarded into the waste bin with a disdainful look. He sanitized his hands and picked his pen back up. He managed to sign a few more documents before another coughing fit took him. He felt simply awful, but the world didn't stop for 'The Bug'. He just couldn't understand how he had caught it.

The words on the paper began to blur when that fit had passed just as the door to his office swung open. He thought he had told his secretary that he didn't want to be disturbed. "Darling~" The last voice on any plane he wanted to hear sang out. "I- oh, my darling Will. You look absolutely dreadful." Sutcliff was upon him before he could blink and reaching out a hand to William's forehead which William swatted away. "My dear, you should be home in bed."

"Sutcliff, you are the last- _cough._ " Whatever he was going to say was cut off by another coughing fit, Sutcliff took advantage of the situation to touch his hand to William's forehead.

"Will, you are burning up. You must go home to bed at once." Sutcliff tugged on his arm to pull him to his feet. William stood quickly and yanked his arm free. Then he wished he hadn't been so hasty as he grew dizzy and faint. Sutcliff was back by his side, helping him to stay upright. William didn't argue this time as he felt his strength leaving him.

The next several moments were a blur as the next thing William was aware of was lying in his bed with Sutcliff tucking him in. "There now," he said. "You rest up and you'll be feeling your usual cold self in no time. I'll be right back." He finished fussing with the covers and left the room. Every argument William thought of to say on the matter was overruled by how horrid he was feeling at the moment, Sutcliff returned a placed a cool damp cloth on William's forehead. He left it there while he undid William's tie. William resisted when Sutcliff tried to undo his shirt. "Now don't be fussy, Will. We have to bring your fever down. You're burning up. William continued to interfere and glare until Sutcliff gave up. He literally threw the towel in by throwing the cloth into the bowl. "Why must you be so stubborn? I'm only trying to help, but if you want to burn, then burn. Maybe it will melt the wall of ice you've built around your heart to keep everyone out." He picked up the bowl of water and left the room in a huff.

Good. Maybe he would go and leave him in peace. William neither wanted nor needed _his_ help. His eyes drifted shut.

Grell stomped out to the living room and set the bowl down; more like dropped it, not caring about the water that splashed out as she plopped down on the sofa with her arms crossed. He could be so infuriating. She wasn't trying anything sexual or romantic. Well, perhaps, maybe she hoped he would appreciate her a little more, be more accepting of her, but mostly she was just wanted to help in get better because she cared about him. _Loved_ him, nut he couldn't see that. He refused to see it. Why did she have to be cursed with these memories? If she had to be cursed, why did it have to be him of all people that she remembered? Who were her parents and what were they like? Did she have any siblings? Not that she cared about them, but she had no memory of them still. Only William. A man who seemed incapable of loving her in this life. The only thing he loved and cared for was his stupid paperwork. He hadn't loved that Russian. He had only slept with him to spite her, she told herself.

But sitting and moping wasn't going to make anyone feel better. Physically or emotionally. She was here to help William, not fret about her love life, or lack thereof. She'd better get back to tending him, whether he wanted her to or not.

Quietly, she slipped back into the bedroom after cleaning up her mess. He was fast asleep. His cheeks flushed brightly with fever and his skin soaked with sweat. He was getting worse. She needed to get him out of that suit and bring his fever down. She should have changed him the second she had gotten him home, but he had been still partially awake then and would have met her with resistance.

Setting the bowl on the nightstand, she opened the top drawer of his dresser to look for something more suitable for him to wear, like pajamas. This drawer contained socks on one side. The socks were neatly folded and all the same black dress code socks that all male reapers were to wear. She wondered what would happen if she were to slip a pair of non-regulation socks amongst them. Maybe tacky plaid or even red. Some nylons might be even funnier. Oh, it was awfully tempting. If she could figure a way to slip back in again at a later date, she just might do it.

The other side was underpants. Hmm, boxers or briefs? ' _Please have some sense of taste and wear boxers,'_ she thought as she pulled out a pair and was relieved to find that, though plain and simple, they were boxers. Thank heavens William was sensible enough to wear boxers. She couldn't stand the look of tidy whiteys on a man. To be sure, no husband of hers was ever going to wear briefs. She wouldn't stand for it.

What was she doing again?

Oh! Something more suited for bed rest than a suit. She refolded the boxers and placed them back in the drawer. The next drawer held shirts. Did this man own anything informal? She finally found pajamas in the bottom drawer. At last some measure of décor in his clothing, even if they were ugly colored stripes. He would most likely be angry with her when he came to and figured out she changed him, but he would get over it eventually.

Him being in no condition for romance for romance, or ability to defend against advances, she kept to proprieties at all times as she changed him. She barely even looked down there, One couldn't begrudge her at least one look. It had been so long since she had seen it. She also kept it brief lest she become distracted again. She needed to bring his fever down, not make I worse. The soiled clothing was tossed to the side to be dealt with later as went about sponging him down with cool water. After a while she half considered hauling him to the shower and sticking under the cold water and after more rounds of cooling him this way, she was seriously considering it, but at last it felt like his fever was starting to come down.

She monitored him for a few more moments before taking time to send the send the dirty laundry off to be cleaned and to fix some supper in case he should be hungry when he woke. Personally, she was famished, but William may not be able to handle anything heavy just yet. Using ingredients found in his cupboards, she prepared a light meal that could easily be reheated if he didn't want anything right away or he slept longer then the soup remained warm. She had been meaning to go on a diet for some time anyway. Not that she would ever admit it to anyone, but she had put on a few extra ounces and she wasn't going to grow old and fat before her time, if reapers ever grew old.

She ate a bowl and washed up after herself before taking residence at William's bedside with a book pilfered from one of his bookshelves. She sat and hummed and sang softly while she read, taking care to check on his fever ever so often which, though slowly receding, was still quite high. On one instance, she turned to check on him to find him awake and looking at her, the fever evident in his eyes. She hadn't been expecting it and nearly jumped out of her skin. She poured him a glass of water and his eyes followed her movements, the look in them making her nervous.

"Please," he said weakly, "do not stop singing. It was beautiful."

"Now I know you are sick," she answered. She knew he wasn't in his right mind, but she couldn't stop her heart from soaring at his words. "Here, drink this." She put the glass to his lips. "You must be dehydrated after all the sweating you've been doing."

"It was beautiful. Like an angel," he managed to say before she tilted the glass and helped him to drink.

 _They sat in their usual spot under the bridge. William held him close and kissed him experimentally, seeking out which places evoked the most responses. He already knew the spot on Grell's neck, but where else was vulnerable? "William," he giggled. William was quite amorous to him every time he got him alone, not that he was complaining, but at this rate he might start something today that they couldn't exactly finish under this bridge, not without drawing attention to themselves._

 _"Yes, my angel?"_

 _"Shouldn't we go somewhere more private? Since you…Will, why do you call me that?"_

 _"My angel?" Grell nodded. "Because the first time I heard you sing I thought you sounded as beautiful as an angel and I still think that. Nor have I seen the likes of your beauty anywhere else on earth, so you must be an angel and you are all mine."_

 _"Nonsense," Grell chided him gently._

"Darling, if it's one thing you and I both know is that I am no angel." She made to move away but he stayed her.

"You are my angel," he said reaching up for her face. Her heart beat to think he might be remembering a piece of their past or at the least history repeating itself. Either way, she could be happy.

"Poppycock. You're delirious, Will." She let him lower her face down to his until their noses were almost touching. "I won't have you professing your undying love to me when you're too sick to remember it." She kissed him lightly on the forehead and persuaded him to take some more water before he fell back asleep, which she thought wasn't a bad idea. She then realized she hadn't anything with her to spend the night. She kept a change of clothes and a beauty kit in her office, so that could be taken care of as soon as she got there, if William was well enough in the morning to go. But what would she sleep in tonight? She could always sleep nude, she giggled to herself, but should William wake before she, she would likely be back in the scythe making department or worse: a janitor. William's pajamas would have to do.

The top of one pair was removed from the dresser a shower taken using his non-scented soaps and shampoo. Stepping out of the shower, as she dried off, she noticed a few patches of fuzz along her jaw line. Damn it. This would be the night when she needed to rid herself of this unwomanly characteristic that insisted on coming in once a week and she had naught to shave with. It was just coming in, so one should notice should she put it off until the next day. It would take at least another week or two for anyone to notice it, but _she_ would know it was there. There was nothing else to be done then. William would have to not mind her borrowing his razor.

Cleaned, shaved, and way past ready for bed, she crawled in next to William and snuggled up next to him, It wasn't like she had a choice, unless she wanted the couch or the floor to sleep on. This bed was built for one, but tonight it would have to hold two. Besides, she could keep a better watch on him this way.

Being sick was a peculiar thing for a reaper. They could go from perfectly healthy to seemingly fighting for their life then back to jumping on rooftops again all in the span of twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Commonly referred to as 'The Bug', the way it affected one reaper could be different from the way it affected another reaper or the same reaper who caught it more than once but there were always symptoms similar to that of a cold at some point in the course of its running and it was passed among them in the same manner. Some supposed it was something inflicted by the creator of their realm to remind them of their former humanity.

Thus William awoke the next morning feeling much improved, though he wouldn't say he was a hundred percent back to full health, with no Sutcliff in sight and no memory of what he said and did in his delirium, he was in good spirits despite the amount of overdue work that was sure to be waiting for him when he clocked in. Sutcliff had gone and left him in peace after the tiff they had about removing his shirt so he could 'cool him off'. Honestly, it was just 'The Bug'. No reaper had ever been reported of dying from it, no matter how bad they had gotten it. He retrieved his glasses from the nightstand and looked at the clock.

Good heavens! It was after ten in the morning! He had best get out of bed and in to work. He was hungry, but food would have to wait. He was just about to get up when Sutcliff came into the room with a tray. William wondered if he could crawl back under the covers and pretend he wasn't there. Not likely.

"I had a feeling you would wake soon," Sutcliff smiled at him.

"Why are you still here, Sutcliff? I thought I told you to leave."

"You never told me to leave, darling, and I would never leave you in your time of need even if you had. Surely you know me better than that."

William sighed. This conversation was pointless and bound to go nowhere. It didn't make any difference now and the day was wasting away. "Well I am better now, therefore you can leave. I shall be at the office presently."

"Oh no you don't." He stopped him from getting up by placing the tray on William's lap. "You're going to stay in that bed, eat your breakfast and drink plenty of fluids. _Then_ we shall see about you going in to work…I'm sorry, but I didn't know how you liked your toast, so I had to guess."

William looked down at the breakfast that had been served him. Now if Sutcliff would only pay as much attention to his work as he did to what William ate for breakfast, maybe things would get done. "It is too brown, but I suppose the fact that you did not burn it is some measure of accomplishment."

Sutcliff frowned at him. "That hurts, William that really hurts. I can't do anything right, can I? I go through all the trouble to fix you breakfast…and I'll have you know that I'm a deadly efficient…Oh forget it. It's not like you care. I don't even know why I even try anymore," he spat bitterly.

"Then don't."

Sutcliff's face showed a range of emotions, from furious to distraught, but William paid it no mind as he started on his breakfast and tried to sort out just how he had come down with 'The Bug'. Physical contact with someone who was infected was the most common means of contracting it, but William was always careful about physical contact with others. There was no one who…He looked up from his breakfast. "You kissed me," he said with cold realization.

Sutcliff started and began to fidget. "Now, Will, it was just a light peck on the forehead. After saying such sweet things last night, I couldn't very well…"

"What are you babbling about? I'm referring to a few days ago when you were pretending to be sicker than you were…Last night? What happened last night?"

Sutcliff's eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh! Nothing happened last night. I don't know what I'm talking about. Just another one of my wild fantasies, you know."

William didn't believe him for a moment. Before he could berate him, however, another important fact caught his attention. "Just when _did_ I change into my night clothes last night, Sutcliff?"

"It was…right after…right after you…" Sutcliff stuttered and began backing away upon seeing the murderous gleam in William's eye. "We really are late for work. I'll see you there. Tata~" Sutcliff fled from his sight. William remained scowling after him. Sutcliff would be on overtime for a month. Paperwork only.

The breakfast was abandoned in favor of getting ready for work. He found his suit from the previous day draped over his armchair, cleaned and pressed. Honestly, he did not know why Sutcliff continued to pursue him. He had gotten what he wanted from him years ago. A night which William had never forgiven him for. What more did Sutcliff want from him? Not that he ever intended to find out. Was the fact that he had had his suit cleaned or fixed him breakfast meant to impress William? That would impress him was for Sutcliff to act like a proper reaper for once. Did his paperwork correctly and on time. William needed an agent that would get his work done, not a housewife, or a man who pretended he was capable of being one.

And to think William had been mildly attracted to him once. Before Sutcliff had taken advantage of him, as he had feared happened again last night. Before he had started this absurd nonsense about being a woman and growing his hair out to that ridiculous length when it had been perfectly fine the way it had been. But he had no time to dwell on the past now. A long day that would last long into the night awaited him.

Tiredly, he dragged his feet back into his flat. It had been a long hard day. Sutcliff had wisely stayed out of his sight, taking careful steps to avoid William. He was exhausted, but he was famished as he had hardly eaten all day in favor of work. He doubted he had anything quick and easy to fix, but he checked the icebox anyway for some leftovers from a previous night. He was surprised to find a pot of soup. Funny, he couldn't recall making and soup…

 _'Sutcliff,'_ he thought with a frown. It had to have been him who made it yesterday while he had been indisposed. There was only one thing to be done with this. He made his way over to the kitchen sink and prepared to dump it down the drain. He paused. If he dumped this, he would have to find something else. This was already made and only needed some heating up. The least he could do was taste it first to see if it was remotely edible before pouring it out. Sutcliff never need know about it either.

With trepidation, he warmed it and filled a bowl. Sitting at the tiny kitchen table, it was not long before he had downed it after the first tepid bite and had gone back for more until only the barest amount remained in the pot. He ignored the small smile that graced his lips as he polished off the last serving.

Sutcliff was never to find out that he had enjoyed it, even if it killed him.


	9. Special Places

**Special Places**

 _ **(This takes place when they are humans)**_

"Pigeons?" When William had offered to take him to his special place, Grell was intrigued. Even more intrigued when William brought him to his family's home. Grell followed him to an aviary containing only one sort of bird...pigeons.

"Some of them are trained to carry messages," William replied with a small frown. Grell had sounded disappointed and unimpressed. He knew that pigeons weren't the sort of bird that people usually kept. They weren't exotic. Perfectly ordinary, just as William was ordinary. Though William thought most people highly underestimated his feathered friends. For example, Rosalind, his favorite of the flock, was very talented. "My mother is suffocating. My father is always worried about us staying conformed to the social norms. My sisters are consistently intrusive. This is the one place in the house I can come to escape them. My sisters are afraid they'll get pigeon droppings on their shoes while my parents would rather leave the care of the pigeons to our servants." There was a flapping of wings and Rosalind lit on William's shoulder. "This is Rosalind."

Grell reached out a hand to pet her. "Hello, Rosalind." Rosalind started and flapped her wings violently and pecked at Grell's hand.

"She's not very fond of strangers."

"You might have warned me," Grell retorted, nursing his hand. William took his hand in his and kissed it.

"You are right. I am sorry," he apologized, placing a few more gentle kisses on Grell's fingers then placed one on the inside of his wrist.

"Someone might see." Grell looked around warily, not really wanting him to stop. William sighed and let go of his hand. "Stupid laws," he burst hatefully. "I wish I were a woman. Then we could have each other and not have to worry. You don't know how I long just to hold hands in public."

William stepped closer and spoke quietly. "My family are out for the day. Most of the servants have the day off..." He took Grell's hand again. "If you want to, we can..." He started to lead him throug the vast house.

Grell's heart pounded in his chest. He went along at first but then slowed to a halt. "What if we're discovered?" After several close calls recently, Grell was paranoid that someone would catch them. 'though the couple had taken greater care since, it was something that was always preying on his knew what happened to their sort. Besides, sex? Was that what William wanted to do? Yes, he wanted to, more than anything, but...were they ready for that? They had only been seeing each other for a few he would rather they be married first, though this could never happen. Perhaps they could pledge themselves together underneath the light of a full moon, on a hill, surrounded by wildflowers. That would be so romantic.

William exhaled heavily. Grell was right. One of the servants could come in on them any minute, his family could come home early, or any number of things. Grell stepped closer to him. "You took me to your special place. Even if I don't understand it, if it's special to you, it's special to me. Now I would like to show you my special place." A quick glance to make sure they were alone in the hall and he stepped even closer to lay his head on William's chest. "It's right here, by your side." William wrapped his arms around his love. He held on to her tightly.

"Perhaps we could take a trip somewhere."

"I've always wanted to visit Paris." There was the sound of footsteps and the two parted just in tie for a maid to walk around the corner. "Though Germany would be nice too," Grell added, scowling after the maid as soon as she had passed. "Anywhere as long as we are far from here. Away from this society's idiotic rules."

"Someday," William replied. "Someday."


	10. Mustard Seed Part 1

**Mustard Seed**

 _This started as an addition to the Box canon, but writer_ ' _s block and other projects got in the way that this is only recently finished and I apologize if it seems to be a little all over the place with the writing and story, I may have deviated a little. So to clarify, this goes (or was supposed to go) with the plot that Grell worked in Scythe manufacturing after graduation because he was deemed to brash, etc. But because of understaffing, was bumped up to dispatch. This takes place almost immediately after that._

Tch.

Grell bared her teeth in a snarl as she glared at her nail which she had filed too short. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. She had nothing else to do. Nothing exciting by any means. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. File this. File that. Was she a secretary or a Dispatch agent? It had been over a month, a month! Since she had been moved to work in the Collection Division at long last and she had not once been sent to collect a soul. William had some notion in his head that he couldn't trust her. So what did she do all day? Nothing but sit on her pretty little ass.

To make matters worse! She was forced to sit out here with the rookies and junior agents. She was skilled enough, been a reaper long enough, that she should have her own office. However, only "senior" agents got their own office. Though her assigned 'spot' wasn't without its perks. She got to see William every time he passed through and she didn't have to wear that deplorable jump suit anymore.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw some of the fledglings whispering among themselves. Talking about her no doubt. This was verified by them glancing in her direction and giggling like schoolgirls. Of _course_ they were talking about her. What was it this time? The same old story that she had slept her way to the top of the scythe manufacturing division where all the flunkies were sent. (Flunky in the sense that though they passed their exams, they did not have the physical or mental capacity to carry out the most known duties of a reaper, collecting souls.) Then the gossip proceeded to whom she had slept with to to get into dispatch. Sometimes, however, it was she had gone to the Branch manager and threatened him. None of these things were true, but she made no effort to deny these rumors. They wouldn't believe her if she told them she had worked her ass off to become head of that department. Or that she was granted this promotion solely because this department was understaffed. These rumors also seemed to make life more interesting and might be used to her advantage to make William jealous.

Speak of the devil, there he is now. Her ice prince. He generally had a look of unhappiness about him, but today, he looked especially so and what was this? He was coming towards her. She swept her feet off her desk and rose to meet him, leaning forward on the desk. "My prince has decided he can no longer live without me and has come to sweep me off my feet.

"I am here to do no such thing." He thrust a file towards her. "As much as it may displease me, I am required to assign you to a collection."

"You should really talk to someone about your trust issues, darling," she fluttered her lashes. "I'm available. How about we talk about them over dinner tonight, you and I?"

"You have two weeks for observation."

"Are we back in the Academy, Will?"

"To ensure that you do not screw this up. Do not embarrass me."

She straightened and folded her arms. "I'll tell you what, William, I'll make you a deal. I do this job _exactly_ according to regulations and you take me on a date."

"Absolutely not." He dropped the file on her desk and started to leave, but she grabbed hold of his arm and held on desperately.

"Then if not a date, make me a senior agent so I can have my own office."

"How absurd. To make you a senior agent for doing one job properly when there are better candidates for such a position than you, temp agent Grell Sutcliff."

"You know as well as I do, they won't send me back down there. Not unless there is a sudden increase of humans stupid enough to make the same mistakes we did. How about I I sweeten the deal? I won't bother you while you are working for two, three, no _six_ weeks."

"Six weeks without making a pass at me, how will you survive?"

"I'll manage. Please, Will? _Please_? I'm so stifled in this room, I can't-"

"Very well. I will consider it, but you have to fulfill your end of the bargain before I do, are we in agreement?"

And that was how she came be watching some spoiled little rich kid. All he did was drink, get high, throwing his family's money away on booze and drugs. He also really liked to chase women. At the rate he was going, no wonder he was going to die soon, and this was just the observation she made from the first day. According to her ledger, however, his death was to be a suicide. So this was a test. She could see William's game. He _wanted_ her to fail. Well, she would play his little game and she would win. And she would get that office.

He really was just a kid. A little mustard seed barley begun to sprout. She had half a mind to go smack him upside the head and set him straight before it was too late. However, this would be against regulations.

On day three, she put her head in her hand and sighed. She was bored of sitting and watching from the rooftops. It would be nice to attend one of the parties her mustard seed went to everyday. Even if they weren't the sort any proper lady should attend, it would be nice to wear a nice dress and to be doted on by all the handsome men.

Well, why couldn't she? There was nothing in the rule book about getting a closer look at her target, and that was what she would be doing. She could observe him better as long as she didn't reveal herself. If she couldn't pull this off, then what kind of actress would she be? She was deadly efficient after all.

She hit the shops at her earliest convenience, selecting a dress she had had her eye on for some time, but couldn't afford. She'd just charge it to her expense account. It was a black party gown with just enough red trim to satisfy her. For the first time in months she felt like a true woman. If William questioned her about the dress code, she could pass it off as a need for a disguise in getting closer to the subject. Though, she could hear William's voice in her head questioning her need to wear a dress to do so.

As stated before, these parties were definitely not the kind folk with any sort of amount of decency would attend. The women in attendance flirted lewdly with the men. The men in turn touched them in inappropriately. Some danced, everyone drank, and most did some form of drug present. Grell grabbed a glass of wine off a moving tray and she had just settled down in a open seat to sip at it while she watched the goings on when one of the young men approached her.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Sorry, honey, I'm spoken for." She took a sip of her wine.

"Bitch," he sneered at her and walked away.

She should be flattered though and she might have taken him up on the offer if she didn't think that she could keep from being distracted. Her assignment sat across the room, a girl on his lap and a drink in his hand. He laughed and joked with those around him until the girl whispered in his ear. Then the two got up and left the room. She followed and settled close enough that William could not accuse her of neglecting her duties. It was not hard to guess what the two were doing and she had no desire to intrude on the rest of his life than need be.

What was the point of this mission again? The kid would suicide by a drug overdose and become a reaper. Perhaps this was part of the test. To see if she would uphold the rules during such a mundane case. Yes, give her something she could only hope to foul up so he would have grounds to banish her back to the scythe department no matter how shorthanded they were. Well, her darling William couldn't be rid of her that easily.

She woke the next day with renewed vigor. The next day also brought an exciting new change. Just the sort to intrigue her and pique her interest. The little mustard seed was dressed up smartly in a fresh new suit. The latest fashion, of course. Sober and not enthralled to attend what he considered to be a dull party and to conform to all social proprieties, the young man entranced into his parents' 'social engagement'. Grell watched in her new dress, sitting in a quiet corner and shielded from human eyes as he made his way through the crowds. She couldn't help a giggle as he sneaked a flask from his pocket and tipped it into his drink. He may be a stupid boy, but his audacity and tenacity to go against society she liked.

He was about to take a sip of his spiked drink, when he spotted _her_. A beautiful, curly headed blond. Her hair was so pretty, even Grell felt a little jealous at the sight of it. Her waistline was so tiny and her hips so perfectly curved. That was Emma Fairchild. One look and he was, as they say, smitten. Introductions were made and it wasn't long before he asked her to dance, which she accepted. The two spent the rest of the evening together, each falling more in love with the other.

"The poor sod," Grell commented to herself. "Doesn't know that love leads to death. The two are entwined. Remember boy, addiction is an ugly thing."

He needed more, _more_.

"Stupid boy," Grell commented as she watched her subject feed his addictions. He showed up late to meet up with his new girlfriend, sometimes still coming down from his high. Naturally, she didn't respond well to this. Making excuses, finally owning up to it, and then promising it would never happen again, but it did. "One more chance," she said. If it happened again, they would be over.

Just one more time and he would quit. Once more.

Ms. Emma Fairchild payed him a surprise visit one afternoon. Caught in the act. He pleaded with her. He just needed this last hit and he would quit, but the answer was no. She wouldn't even look at him. Perhaps she could forgive this instance, if it weren't for the woman lying beside him.

Instead of cleaning up his act, giving up his vices, he wallowed in his self pity. He drank more and the stronger the better. He what drugs he could get his hands on. On the final of night of his life, he looked at himself and was absolutely disgusted. There was no hope for him. Emma was lost to him forever.

Taking a lethal dose of morphine, he gave up his life.

A pair of red and black heels stepped into his vision from his position on the floor as he slipped away. "A whole life ahead of you and you threw it away. The love of a beautiful woman, money, and you gave it all up. Now you have eternity to think about what you've done. Welcome to the Grim Reaper Association."

"I am impressed," William said slowly after reviewing the completed case file.

"So does that mean I get my own office now?" Grell asked hopefully.

"It means I will consider it."

"But you promised! You gave your word."

"I only promised to consider it."

"So it means 'no' then," she snarled, placing her hands on her hips.

"It means I will consider it. One instance of following the rules does not constitute a promotion. We are shorthanded as you well know. Fortunately, we may be receiving new recruits in the near future. We will need officers capable of overseeing these new agents during their probation period."

"You mean babysitters," she said disdainfully.

"Do you think you are capable of the task?"

"If it means getting my own office, then fine, I'll be a babysitter."


	11. Mustard Seed Part II

Mustard Seed part II

He passed. It wasn't too hard. It was simple enough. Follow this set of rules and remember everything taught at the Academy. Having retrieved his official spectacles, he reported to the dispatch supervisor immediately as instructed. They must be shorthanded indeed if they wanted to put him straight to work. He waited now outside his supervisor's office door for the senior agent that was to be assigned to him. William T. Spears, his supervisor was away at the moment on business and the senior agent assigned to him was late.

He looked around the department as he waited. There weren't very many female agents in this department, very disappointing, but there were other departments he could visit and maybe chat them up a bit. All secretaries, he mused. He would think there would be at least one female dispatch agent. Secretaries were fine, but it would be interesting and a nice change to what he was used to. He wondered if there was some rule he hadn't heard about or they had simply chosen these paths.

The click-clack of high-heeled shoes sounded in his ears, and they were heading towards him. A somewhat masculine looking woman with impossibly red long hair and looking very unhappy. She was wearing the latest fashion in the human world amongst the ladies.

"You are not in uniform, Sutcliff," William observed, coming up silently behind Ronald and startling him.

"What do you expect? When you call me on my day off, during a shopping trip. Of course I'm not in uniform. You told me to get here right away." Irritation drained from her face, she fluttered her lashes at William in an attempt to be seductive as she stepped closer. "Or did you call me in for something?"

"Yes, I do need you for something, Sutcliff."

"You do?" she asked, surprised and excited.

"Yes, this this Ronald Knox," William gestured to the young reaper beside him. "I believe you are already acquainted with him."

"Oh," Grell sniffed, "him."

"He is to be under your supervision. Here is the key to your new office." William reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. The redhead snatched the key from him.

"You took you time about it….but thank you!" Sutcliff suddenly smiled and threw her arms around William, who wiggled free from her sudden embrace. She pouted slightly as he straightened his suit and recombed his hair.

"Do not make me regret this, senior agent Sutcliff."

"Not at all, Will-darling~"

"I'm not your darling," he answered, retreating into his office, Sutcliff watching his rear the entire time.

"Wow," said Ronald. "So, uhm…" She wasn't exactly what he considered a 'hot babe', but it had been some time since he dated a redhead and if Mr. Spears meant by 'acquainted' that Sutcliff had been the one to reap his soul (surely he would remember if he had met her), then they already had a bit of a rapport to go on. Okay, maybe not much of one, but it was a start. "You are the first female agent I've seen around here that's not a secretary or something."

"That's because I'm Grell Sutcliff, Queen of the Reapers." She twirled around, posed her hand and shouted, "Death!" Grell grabbed his hand with a squeal, "Let's go see my new office!" Excitedly, she dragged him along to her new office. Finding it was easy enough, as her name was freshly painted in the door. It was still drying in fact. "Well this will ha to change," she said looking at the plain white drabby room with naught in it but a desk, a chair, and a few other office essentials.

"So, you're sweet on the boss, huh?" Casually make conversation while fishing for information. "You two dating or something?"

"Or something," she muttered in response. "No, darn it, but he'll some around someday."

"Well, until he does, would you like to go out tonight?" She wasn't the prettiest girl h had gone out with, but she had a good sense of style and great vigor. If nothing else, perhaps they could have a quick shag, He hadn't ha one in quite awhile and 'Little Knoxie' was getting lonesome.

Grell let out a sharp laugh. "You're cute, Mustard Seed, but you're not my type. Besides, William and I are destined to be together." She clutched her heart dramatically.

"Type's got nothing to do with it. Can't we just fuck? Have pointless, meaningless sex?"

Grell laughed again. "You've got some nerve! Asking to bed your senior right off the bat. I'm not your type either, darling, believe me. I watched your record. I know what sort of girls you prefer. Thank you for asking though. It's very sweet of you. If you're that desperate, I know of a brunette in General Affairs who is very available."

"You do? Thanks Senpai, that'd be great!" Ronald checked his watch. It was a rather plain and simple watch. Very cheap. He planned to get a real nice one someday, "We'd better get going," he said. "Got a soul to collect in a short while."

"All right, but while we are out, let's stop and pick up some new things for my office," Grell walked towards the door swinging her handbag.

"Are we allowed to do that? Shouldn't we report back here?" he asked uncertainly, following after.

"Of course we can," she answered. "William won't mind…and don't let me forget to charge it to my expense account. We are buying office supplies, after all." Ronald looked dubious, but it was her ass, not his.

At the scene of death, the record Ronald was reviewing got out of control. Grell stood by an let him handle it until it was clearly too much for him to handle. It was then that Grell jumped in and tackled the unruly cinematic record, giving Ronald a chance to view her skills. He whistled in amazement when the last of the record was gathered. "I can see why you're in Dispatch." He never wanted to go up against her.

"Triple-A in practical," she boasted.

"T-tripe-A?!" he gaped in awe. Yes, there was no way he was ever going to test his 'B's' against her 'A's'." How long have you been a reaper?"

"It's impolite to ask a woman her age, you know. Long enough, but I've only recently been moved back to Dispatch. Some airhead in Upper Management got some hair-brained idea in his head after I finished probation that I am too unstable to be trusted out in the field and sent me to work in the basement making death scythes. Collections has been short handed lately, so they finally got desperate enough to beg me to fill in for awhile, but I don't think they'll send me back. Not when they've seen my talent."

The two walked along. Now that the soul was collected, Grell wet in and out of shops buying this and that for her office. Various red decorative items, a potted plant, a painting, things Ronald didn't think classified as "office supplies". Noticing how late it was getting, he said, "Shouldn't we be heading back now?"

"I'm almost finished. I just want to go in this last shop and we'll head back, okay?" She didn't wait for an answer, spending several minutes in the shop, and then coming out empty handed. "They didn't have what I was looking for," she sighed, stepping towards the curb. A horse and carriage came down the road at a quick pace. It drove past splashing muddy water from the recent rain al over Grell. "Asshole!" She shouted after it, curiously sounding more manly than Ronald thought possible for a woman. "That's no way to treat a lady! Hmf…now I'll have to go home and change. Will would prefer me in uniform anyway, come on."

Ronal followed Grell to her apartment. It was well lived in, if a bit cluttered. "Make yourself comfy," she invited, heading into the bedroom and coming out with her uniform. Pants? The female reapers he had seen wore blouses and skirts as their uniform. Well, Ronald supposed they would be more practical when out collecting souls then a dress would be. He never had heard of a woman wearing men's trousers before. Another thing in this realm that he would have to get used to.

The outfit was tossed onto the back of the couch Ronald had settled on while Grell went to the bathroom to wash the mud off. She came back out, hair damp from the shower, makeup freshly applied, and a red towel wrapped around her figure. It was the that Ronald noticed her lack of curve and other assets pertaining to the female body. Like breasts. "Uhh, Grell-senpai?" He started to question, starting to feel very awkward. The Knox was strictly a ladies man and he was beginning to think he had been hitting on someone who wasn't exactly a lady. Not to mention he couldn't say he really knew any people like Grell, if his new feelings were correct and wasn't sure how to respond.

"Yes?" she answered, picking up a pair of enticing underwear.

"Err-um," Was she planning to change in front of him? His cheeks reddened, but he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away. "I know we aren't really supposed to inquire too much about our past lives, but it was you who oversaw my death, wasn't it?"

"Yes, in fact you were the first I was allowed to reap since I relocated back to this department. Will was being an ass. He has trust issues, just to let you know, and I can't do anything right in his eyes."

"Then how in the world did you get him to give you a promotion?"

"We made a little bet and he lost," she giggled., finally removing her towel. Ronald's face turned white as a sheet a full view of his senior's naked body as he slid on his panties. "But if you really want to know what I truly think about you, I think you're an absolute git. Love is hard enough to find as it is and you just let it go. You threw it away."

"I know, I know," he griped, slumping into the couch, having finally managed to look away. He was really feeling nauseous now.

Back in Grell's office, Ronald watched as she flitted about the room decorating it. She left for a short while and came back with a box of things she had kept at her old desk and arranged them on her new. The last thing she pulled out was a picture frame. She looked at it wistfully for a moment before setting it down on the desk as well. Ronald took a glance at it and saw it was Grell and William looking fresh from the academy. Grell's hair was short and William's was messy. It was an was fully old photograph and Ronald couldn't help but wonder if Grell had been in love with William since this time.

"Were there any complications?" a monotonous voice asked from behind. Ronald turned to see William standing in the doorway.

"Oh it was nothing. Just some unruly records, but they were no match for me," Grell answered dismissively. "It'll all be in the report, so don't you worry your pretty little head."

"If I ever get said report. Then why are you so late?"

"Some jerk splashed mud all over my lovely dress…and I picked up a few things to decorate my new office with. What do you think?"

"I think you plan on adding it to your monthly expense account, which will not be approved."

"But, Will!" she protested, stomping her foot like a child.

"If you cannot afford it, you will have to take it back."

"How cruel," she said then sauntered her way over to him. "But that's one of the many things I like about you." She ran her finger under and around his collar and leaned in close, intent on a smooch. William shoved her off with enough force to send her to the floor where he delivered a light kick. "But it's not even Wednesday," she muttered, picking herself backup.

"Your point?"

It wasn't long before Ronald heard all the scandalous rumors surrounding his mentor. The biggest one being how promiscuous she was, and seeing how she flirted with about any man she saw, he believed it. However, they got along well and soon became fast friends. There were times her flamboyance nerved him, but he simply ignored it and went on his way.

If you were to ask his honest opinion about Grell's relationship with William, he believed William hated Grell. As much as he wanted his mentor to be happy and have the person she most desired, William hit her and constantly berated her work ethic, which admittedly wasn't the best. Perhaps time would change things.

Ronald, while still loving a good party and would still get drunk from time to time, he never touched drugs again. He still chased the women and became very well known in the Reaper Realm and among some of the women in the mortal realm as well.


End file.
